


a splendid affair

by burnshoney



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: (mostly) Canon Compliant, Ah yes my favorite tag, Arguing, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Ballroom Dancing, Body Worship, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Face-Sitting, Gentle Sex, Light Bondage, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Naked Cuddling, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Other, Post-Canon, Post-Coital Cuddling, Post-War, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Sloppy Makeouts, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, amaya is KINKY y'all, and when i say slow burn i MEAN slow burn you can skip the first 6k and they'll still be pining, chapter two is literally just 11.1k of smut, past opeli/amaya, please read the notes before starting the fic you'll know what i mean afterwards, these tags are a mess, y'all asked and I delivered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21710101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burnshoney/pseuds/burnshoney
Summary: Amaya’s head is already buzzing pleasantly by the time Janai spots her amidst the crowd.
Relationships: Aditi/Haimi (The Dragon Prince), Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince), Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Harrow/Sarai (The Dragon Prince), Khessa/Suri (The Dragon Prince), Opeli/Fareeda (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 71
Kudos: 354





	1. as we dance cheek to cheek

**Author's Note:**

> IT'S MY BIRTHDAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY AND YES I WROTE JANAYA MAKING OUT AFTER FIVE YEARS OF MUTUAL PINING AND SLOWBURN TO CELEBRATE. YOU'RE WELCOME. i wrote this in less than a week pls pray for my fingers in the most likely event they snap off. thank you.
> 
> so!!! if you're new here or don't follow me on twitter (@ korrqsato) you may not recognize some names in this fic. so i'll go over them! my personal hc is that queen aditi - khessa and janai's grandmother - was married to the elf [pictured beside her in s1ep1 and have named her haimi.](https://twitter.com/korrqsato/status/1201320720879497216) then there's [suri,](https://twitter.com/korrqsato/status/1202273261549162496) who i hc to be nb and khessa's lover from s3ep3, the elf that weilds the Light that judges amaya. that's all!!!!!
> 
> title from [a splendid affair](https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3214401/a-splendid-affair/) by ava and the dance they do is based heavily on [the ballroom scene from cinderella (2015)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QGGbT5HGxY)

Amaya’s head is already buzzing pleasantly by the time Janai spots her amidst the crowd. The human General is propped against the wall, wineglass in one hand as she watches her eldest nephew in the middle of the dance floor, hands wrapped in Rayla’s, the two of them laughing as they spin around together. Janai doesn’t say anything as she stops at Amaya's side and she glances at Janai with a quirk to her lips before taking another sip.

To the left of the dance floor, King Ezran and Queen Aanya converse quietly, a pile of jelly tarts between them. The two human monarchs laugh at something, eyes lighting up before bending their heads back together to continue their conversation and Amaya turns her head.

She dips her chin in wordless welcome and Janai inclines her head for a moment. “I hope you don’t mind me joining you,  _ Queen Amaya.” _

Amaya snorts, flapping her free hand.  _ Not Queen, _ she signs before taking another sip from her wine.  _ Ezran was ready to lead and I was ready to step down. _

_ I wish I could do that,  _ she snorts and leans against the wall.  _ Sorry I missed the coronation. _

Shrugging with an easy smile, Amaya looks back to the dancefloor.  _ I know you were busy with your own things,  _ she signs absent-mindedly and Janai allows herself the moment to simply  _ look  _ at her.

Never the one for overbearing finery, Amaya’s dress is more of a long tunic. It's the same deep blue as the shirt she wore beneath her armor back all those years ago when she was in Lux Aurea as a political prisoner, piped in gold, the high collar accenting her thin throat elegantly. The sleeves hug her arms, muscles shifting when Amaya brings the globular glass to her lips and Janai looks away quickly, a flush that isn’t her natural body heat spreading across her face.

One would think with five years between them, only once a year meeting at this Gala besides the letters sent back and forth, Janai's feelings for Amaya would fade. It seems — most unfortunately — that they've done nothing but linger and Janai takes a swig from her glass that would  _ definitely  _ make her sister frown.

The fifth annual Celebration of Peace Gala is nowhere to ogle the most decorated General in human history — aunt to Prince Callum and King Ezran, previous  _ Queen regent _ of Katolis - Janai reminds herself, friends as they are or not. She knows the warmth in her chest goes leaps and bounds beyond friendship. Thankfully, it's small mercies that the Gala is being hosted at Lux Aurea this year and Janai can write off any flush on her cheeks as excitement and the alcohol in her system where no one can question her.

She  _ is  _ Queen after all.

Taking another sip, she grimaces at the glimpse of her advisors in the crowd. It's only her history of Lux Aurea that she's been able to dodge them all night so far; helped by her knowledge of dark corners and empty hallways. She blinks away sudden tears at the memory of Khessa and her discovering those same hiding places as children — long before they would cover for the other if they snuck away with a... _ companion _ . Lux Aurea’s palace is full of winding corridors and hidden rooms built into sloping walls and Janai remembers more than once accidentally finding her sister in them with Suri.

She supposes she'll never have to worry about walking in on them again. Suri and Khessa were both ripped away in the same night, and Janai is left behind as Queen in her sister's place.

There’s a tap on her shoulder. Janai blinks, realizing she’s been staring down at the glass clutched tightly in her hands, frowning, and loosens her hold.

Amaya’s eyes are sympathetic, somehow understanding despite Janai not having said a word. It’s something she forgets about the General sometimes, only seeing her once a year despite their letters — she’s uncannily skilled at hearing things never said aloud despite her inability to hear at it. Even if Janai had never told her in her letters one night; when the palace was too empty around her, the crown too heavy on her head, she knows that Amaya would  _ know _ . Her brown eyes are soft, slightly glassy with her intake of alcohol, as she sets down her wine glass to sign.

_ Care to dance, Queen Janai? _

Janai snorts but sets down her glass as well.  _ Are you sure you're able? You're looking a little off-balance, General Amaya. I wouldn't hold it against you if you couldn't waltz. _

Amaya rolls her eyes, smirking, and Janai bites back the way her breath hitches in her throat when Amaya's hand touches her forearm. While Amaya has tight-fitting tan trousers beneath her blue tunic tucked into brown leather boots, Janai is in all the gold-and-burgundy finery of a Queen of Lux Aurea. Her arms are bare, though, so she can  _ feel  _ the twisted burn scar on Amaya's palm when her hand rests directly against Janai's warm skin.

Neither one starts although sees Amaya blink oddly. Whatever expression she had made at the moment passes quickly and Janai bites her tongue.

She will  _ not  _ let herself lose it over the feeling of the burn scar on Amaya's palm — the same one Amaya inflicted on herself to keep Janai from storming the palace tower all those years ago, too keep Janai from killing herself. All of a sudden that's all she sees — fire in the tower, dark purple twisting around the Light, Khessa's body and screams literally fading away as her body burnt away in a fall she could never get up from, Suri's limp form falling to the ground like their Queen.

Janai blinks away tears. 

Blissfully oblivious to Janai’s thoughts as she is, Amaya doesn’t stop at her arm. Instead, it slides down until their fingers trail together and Amaya is holding out a palm, face-up. 

An invitation extended as well as her hand. 

_ May I have this dance?  _ she signs simply and Janai reaches for her. When their hands brush Janai jolts back slightly but looks back up at Amaya.

Her smile is reassuring and Janai takes a deep breath.

_ You may. _

Despite her doubts they're both sober enough for it, despite her avoidance of the dancefloor the entire night, she wraps her fingers around Amaya's. The moment she does it seems the ballroom softens in noise and when Janai finally tears her eyes away from Amaya's face, she sees it  _ has.  _

The room's gone silent.

All eyes settle on them and Janai is reminded for the thousandth time that she is the host. She's spent the night so far on the fringes, drinking wine and talking to diplomats and delegates and stubbornly ignoring the dancefloor — she can't anymore.  _ She doesn't want to.  _ Straightening her spine under the heavy gazes she feels Amaya do the same beside her. The entire room seems to hold their breath as the two women step forward, heads held high, Amaya's hand sliding to the crook of Janai's elbow.

By the time they reach the middle of the room, everyone has cleared out. 

Amaya's hand travels down her forearm to clasp palms for a single moment before her hand falls away and Janai leads her around so they're facing each other, coming to be just a single pace away. Time seems to slow, slower than ever before, then Amaya's bowing at the waist, hand fisted over her breast and Janai inclines her head in acknowledgment. 

She rises and their eyes find each other's again like second nature. Amaya's breathing heavily, cheeks flushed from alcohol and the hundreds of heavy gazes pinned on them and Janai finds with a start she's breathless, too.

Heat that isn't from the bodies pushed together into the ballroom flashes through her and Janai steps forward. The warmth bleeds into her limbs, much more than the alcohol and she  _ knows it  _ but she forces it down. Even though there's barely a pace between them she finds herself merely inches from the General and in the hanging moment before the first chord strikes, she slides her hand around Amaya's hip to rest against her back.

Amaya's breath hitches and she leans, ever-so-slightly, into Janai. 

Janai finds herself incapable of looking away from the General's mouth, slightly parted, warmth breath puffing through them. She would be happy here, forever, she thinks — Amaya in her arms, close enough to feel her breath and see how her chest heaves, forever balanced in the moment before the music starts. Time is suspended as Amaya's eyes flit up to hers and then the first chord strikes.

The crowd around them fades into nothingness, drenched into silence only they exist. The waltz is slow, regal, dripping from one smooth note to the other and Janai tucks her other hand against the curve of her spine. The first motion is simply swaying and Janai keeps her hand on Amaya's waist as they move into the first turn.

The Royal Waltz is stunningly simple but Janai's seen it done a hundred times and knows how elegant it looks. How many times has she been one of the eyes, watching, as the Queen spun her Chosen around the dancefloor, crown gleaming, eyes sharp and motions quick?

She remembers Khessa doing this at every gathering; she remembers her sister extending her hand to Suri every single time and them taking it. She remembers Suri's adoring eyes as they watched their lover, the Queen, spin and twirl underneath the lights of Lux Aurea, bathed in gold.

Where Khessa favored yellow, Janai prefers burgundy.

Amaya's eyes never stray far from Janai's face. Even as she spins them; slow, easy; neither one of them seems able to blink. Soon Amaya is standing in front of her again, close enough Janai can feel her breathing, and the arm tucked behind her back comes up to slide beneath Amaya's right.

She brings them up, down. It's a simple wave-like motion but as the music starts to swell and the motion becomes more pronounced, their hands coming to lift over Amaya's head, Janai mourns having to release Amaya's waist. Then she's spinning Amaya, hands above their heads coming to propel her back after a long-drawn moment until Janai's hand then settles again on Amaya's waist.

Her head spins with something that isn't alcohol or quick motion.

Amaya's hands are not idle, either. She's following Janai's every movement, letting her lead, but when her hand settles on the side of Janai's face as if to cup it Janai can't help but smile. She knows it's nothing more than a quirk at the side of her lips but Amaya smiles back and Janai  _ aches. _

The hand against her face she uses to push Amaya away - and launch her into the spin. Amaya's dress isn't floor-length so the full effect of the quick turn is lost but Janai finds herself breathless regardless. 

No matter how many times Amaya spins away, she always comes back and Janai is less than a hair's breadth away to catch her. Amaya's hand ghosts across her cheek against before she's gone and Janai swears she feels the General's thumb trace down one of her marks before disappearing again.

Janai chases her. It's easy to align herself with the graceful, powerful movements of Amaya's body until that's all she can see. In the in-between, she wonders how she never noticed the General's elegance before; the same fingers that can clutch a shield her height are long and pale when they wrap around Janai's forearm.

Her heart  _ lurches.  _ Where Janai's skin is always warm — a perk of being connected to the Sun Arcanum — Amaya's is cooler. The jolt of lightning beneath her skin at the feeling of Amaya's hand on her arm is nothing compared to the throbbing in her face. Janai's cheeks burn with the lingering smile she can't get rid of but she finds she doesn't want it gone. 

When Amaya's hand leaves her forearm to spin again, Janai simply extends her hand and waits.

Beautifully, Amaya doesn't disappoint.  _ She never does,  _ Janai thinks dimly and loses herself to the way their fingers feel slotted against each other when they bring them above their heads, leading Amaya so close that Janai can see the flakes of grey and green in her eyes.

She's  _ magnificent. _

They repeat the motion — stepping back until only their fingertips touch until coming back in quickly, hands clasped. But this time, when they both back away, Janai swoops in and smoothly slides her palm up Amaya's waist to settle right below her shoulder blades.

Amaya gasps. It's a small sound, barely there, but Janai savors it. It's for her, after all, and she'll take what she can get.

Then Amaya's hand is settling on her shoulder, their hands held out to the side of them and clasped, and they're twirling. Faintly Janai registers their turns are becoming larger and larger and the ballroom murmurs around them as they step back to allow the Queen and her Chosen more room, but she knows they only have eyes for the other.

All too soon it's time for the presentation and Amaya's hand leaves her arm to be spun out. Janai spins her out until they're both facing the crowd, arms outstretched to hold the other, and they stay there for a heartbeat.

Even while the crowd claps, Amaya's gaze never leads Janai. Flushed as she is, she knows the shiver that travels down her spine isn't from her temperature. They repeat the motion to the other side and then Amaya is back in her arms, pressed to Janai's chest, and Janai lets her eyes dart to the side to show Amaya how to position her head so she doesn't go dizzy.

Nodding once, Amaya tilts her head back and to the side. 

The motion exposes her neck, the long column of her throat leading from the collar of her dress to the sharp cut of her jawline and Janai's mouth goes dry. She's so  _ close  _ it would be easy and press her lips to the place where she can see Amaya's skin undulate as she breathes heavily.

She all but floats through the turns, spinning, spinning, having to restrain herself from leaning in and kissing the alluring line.

Amaya's spine is curved gracefully where Janai's hand lays against it.

A quick twirl and then they're pressed together again — Janai leans Amaya against her side to spin them quickly — then the music swells louder than before and Janai slides her hand lower, lower still.

Amaya's eyes flash in the chandelier light. 

In a quick, single motion, Janai lets both of her hands slide to either side of Amaya's trim waist and  _ lifts.  _ The General is lighter than Janai expected and she perches above Janai for a drawn-out heartbeat Janai wishes she could live in forever. She tilts her head back to watch and Amaya's heavy breathing mixed with breathless laughter makes her chest stutter.

It's then Janai realizes how her eyes are level with the swell of Amaya's chest and lowers her as the same heat as before returns but slower this time, dripping,  _ tempting.  _

_ Enticing. _

Amaya's boots meet the ground and their faces are level. They're both flushed, breathing like they're just fought instead of danced, their noses almost touching. Every stuttering exhale Amaya gives is an inhale Janai takes and vice versa and they're revolving around each other until the music skips.

Janai's reminded that Amaya is trusting her wholeheartedly to lead her to the beat of the music — she wonders if Amaya can feel the vibrations of the strings at all through the thick sole of her boot and the responsibility on her shoulders doesn't cripple her but makes her stand straighter. Amaya  _ trusts her. _

Their hands find each other over their heads like before and Janai is twisting to dip Amaya, hand wrapped around her waist as Amaya's arm steadies herself against Janai's back. 

The dance doesn't end until Janai brings Amaya back up and she wonders for a moment if she could keep Amaya like this — cradled to her as she is, them both glowing with their shared dance and mulled spice wine. Even dipped as she is, Amaya doesn't look away from her and Janai watches with rapt attention as her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

The heat in her stomach  _ tugs  _ almost painfully. As much as she wishes it didn't have to, the dance must end so Janai lifts Amaya and steps away. 

Janai's hand feels painfully empty and cold without Amaya's within it.

Around them, sound starts to bleed back in as the music fades. The crowd claps, all smiling, and Amaya doesn't blink away from Janai's gaze as she sinks into a low curtsy. The applause hangs with the last note and they're both chuckling heavily as Janai holds a hand to her upper chest as a sign of respect and thanks.

It's then the realization hits her —  _ Amaya is her Chosen. _

Suddenly Janai feels drunk not only on the wine that's been flowing all night but the smell and feel of Amaya in her arms. Even as Amaya smiles at her, cheeks flushed and hair rumpled from where it curls against her cheeks, Janai feels empty, floating, like Amaya is an anchor and she's now lost amongst the clouds.

The ballroom moves around them. The next song has begun and the paired couples pour into the wide circle Janai and Amaya created with their exaggerated spins but Janai seems rooted to the spot in the middle of it all.

Amaya lays a hand on Janai’s forearm, jarring her out of her thoughts. When Janai swallows the urge to kiss her  _ extremely  _ reddened lips from her blush and raises an eyebrow, Amaya jerks her head to the side as their palms slide together. As if she'd be able to refuse, Janai nods and follows, dazed, eyes locked on the interlocking fingers; four fitting between five perfectly.

It's as if they were  _ made  _ to fit together.

The spinning colors on the ballroom blur together behind them as Janai lets Amaya lead her. It only occurs to her after Amaya changes direction three different times, slipping between people, that the General has no clue where she's going. A fraction of an idea forms in Janai's head and she tugs gently on their clasped hands. Amaya pauses, half-turns, and Janai points to where she knows there's a door out of the large ballroom; to where she knows they can be alone.

The thought sends a thrill through her. 

Amaya pulls her towards it and the moment the door closes behind them the sound of the ballroom dims so abruptly that Janai feels like she's underwater. Even the sound of Amaya's heels against the marble floor feels muted somehow and the General turns to face her, dropping her hand.

_ I'm sorry,  _ she signs and Janai frowns — Amaya's smile is suddenly, inexplicably gone.  _ I didn't think everyone would watch us like that. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. _

It clicks in Janai's head at the same moment she's shaking her head, stepping forward. Her fingers itch to take Amaya's hand to reassure her physically in all the ways she knows she struggles to express and she doesn't realize she's done so until Amaya's breath hitches, Janai's mouth is being pressed to pale knuckles. The corridor is dark, the only light coming in through the windows but it's enough for Janai to see the bright flush that colors Amaya's cheeks. Her eyes widen as the blush spreads to her neck and Janai drops the hand after a stuttering moment.

_ You didn't make me uncomfortable,  _ Janai signs and pointedly ignores how all of those who watched them dance and knew the significance of the waltz probably thinks they're sneaking off for... _ different  _ reasons.  _ I wanted to dance with you or I wouldn't have said yes. Even if we were watched the entire time. _

_ Do you know why they were staring? _

It's Janai's turn to blush and she shakes her head. Amaya's contemplative frown deepens at that and she looks down the hall long enough for Janai to rearrange her face like she hasn't just lied through her teeth. 

If they didn't already know, everyone in that ballroom knows  _ damn  _ well what that waltz meant by now.

She's breathing normally now, but the idea of returning to the ballroom turns her stomach so Janai taps Amaya's hand.  _ Want a tour?  _ she asks when Amaya turns.

Amaya's face brightens considerably when she nods and Janai's heart warms at the motion. Then Amaya's looping her arm through Janai's smiling so brightly Janai swears the corridor lightens, too. 

They're off. 

The palace halls are quiet around them. All staff that isn't working the gala tonight either with catering or making sure the party doesn't get out of hand have been given the night off so they're completely alone as they wander. Every few steps Amaya's left shoulder brushes with Janai's right and as they turn the corner, Janai finds the motion no longer knocks her lungs breathless but that she's rather come to crave the physical touch.

Janai points out little things as they walk —  _ a vase from the Earthblood Kingdoms,  _ she signs and Amaya studies the smooth veneer. It's too dark for her to see the clay design properly so they move on and Amaya finds herself content to stay where she is.

She knows she should she be anxious about getting back to the gala; to keep an eye on Callum, Rayla and Ezran but instead she's here, tucked into Janai's side as the Sunfire Queen tells her about the woven tapestries and various gifted knick-knacks that line the moon-lit hall. Amaya soothes herself with the knowledge that there's no more war and in the event of anything happening, Corvus is skilled enough to protect her nephews and Rayla if need be. Even on the arm of Queen Fareeda tonight, she also knows Opeli wouldn't hesitate to jump in if necessary. Despite her resignation of Katolis' Master of Ceremonies to become Evenere's Princess Consort, Amaya knows her deep-set loyalty still lies with their child King.

It's reassuring and Amaya relaxes back into Janai's side. She finds herself unable  _ not  _ to melt into the elf's warmth — an advantage of the Sun Arcanum, she supposes. 

There's a tap on her hand and she blinks. Janai's eyes are worried.

_ You alright? You're slowing down. _

Amaya snorts.  _ Guess I had a little too much to drink, plus that dance took a lot out of me. I'm not a soldier anymore. _

_ We can sit,  _ Janai signs and Amaya shakes her head.

_ I may not be as young as I once was,  _ Amaya chuckles as they continue their tour down a different hall,  _ but I'm not old either. _

They both laugh at that and Amaya's hit with the recurring realization that Janai and she are barely years apart. She knows from Janai's letters that the myth elves are immortal if not killed is just that — a  _ myth _ .  _ Our sub-century lifespan is the same as yours,  _ Janai had written to Amaya's inquiry and Amaya remembers staring down at the calligraphy

At the end of the day, they're just like them.

Amaya studies Janai's profile when she isn't looking. She follows the slope of her nose, the bow of her lips, the sleek line of her jawline. She traces the yellow henna beneath her eyes like rays of sunshine on her cheeks, the dull gleaming of the crown on her brow, the way her horns - tipped with gold — sparkle in the moonlight.

She knows Janai's stunning radiance when illuminated by the sun, by flames but what takes her breath away in a way she knows isn't the alcohol is how the moonlight falls across her features. Amaya hadn't expected Janai to look so ethereal under the glow of something that wasn't her Arcanum but Amaya studies the swoop of shadows around her lips, dripping off her nose, and has to look away quickly.

It seems their constant correspondence through letters have not staved off Amaya's feelings as she had once hoped. The warmth that curls in her ribs — wholly not from Janai's body heat but  _ Janai  _ herself — is the same Amaya felt all those years ago when Queen Zubeia's voice rumbled her to the core and when Callum took Rayla's hand as Zubeia gasped, Amaya took Janai's.

In that moment, she hadn't expected Janai to take hers. They had both been exhausted, barely standing on their feet, covered in burns and dirt, the remnants of adrenaline slowly filtering out of their systems. Amaya hadn't been sure what she was thinking when she reached out and punched Janai's arm, smiling smugly. What she expected was for Janai to roll her eyes, maybe walk away — but when she rolled her eyes she took Amaya's hand instead, smiling warmly before looking up at Zubeia.

Their palms had pressed together; Janai's hands bare as they were and the glove burnt away from Amaya's. 

Amaya had swallowed down the hitch in her breathing, smiled back, and as she looked back at the towering frame of the Queen of the Dragons before her, had felt that warmth curl low in her chest. She had convinced herself it was respect —  _ Warrior's Honor, _ Janai had called it back in Lux Aurea, according to Kazi. It was nothing more than mutual understanding the relief of surviving Viren's attack.

The feeling hadn't gone away but burrowed it's way into her heart and stayed there, festering, marching her pulse along until the moment Amaya held out her hand to Janai in a mirrored parallel to all those years ago. 

_ May I have this dance? _

Just like before, Amaya hadn't expected Janai to take it but always the one for surprises, Janai  _ had.  _ With only the slightest bit of hesitation, she had taken Amaya's hand, pressed their palms together, and smiled so widely Amaya thought fiercely for a moment it was night because the sun was in her expression.

Amaya wasn't stupid — she had felt the gazes of the room fall on them. Even as Janai led her to the dancefloor, chin high, and Amaya felt the music start as the vibrations climbed up her legs, she knew what she doing, who she was doing it  _ with.  _ The Royal Waltz was a tradition dating back so long she hadn't been able to find the origins.

She hadn't expected Janai to lead her into the Royal Waltz,  _ especially  _ with  _ Amaya.  _

As her  _ Chosen. _

_ It probably wasn't her intention,  _ Amaya reminds herself as she watches Janai's hands explain the tapestry between two balconies. Even as she studies the callouses on the elf's hands from her sword, all Amaya can think about is how they felt against her waist, lifting her, the warmth of her palms seeping through the material of Amaya's tunic and how her face flushed.

Amaya felt as if she was flying, in that moment. Her hands had found Janai's shoulders as she gasped, laughing, and had sworn in the split-second she looked down that Janai had been staring up at her like  _ she  _ was the sun in her sky. Like  _ she  _ was the one decked out in gold and burgundy finery, the one with the literal sun under her eyes, the one spinning her around instead of the other way around.

She blinks. Janai's hands have stopped moving and she's staring past Amaya, unblinking, something like bitterness in her eyes. When Amaya follows her eyes all she sees is a door, hidden partly by shadows.

Tapping her shoulder, Janai startles and looks away. Amaya frowns, stepping in front of her so she can't flee.  _ What's wrong? _

_ Nothing,  _ Janai signs quickly and Amaya crosses her arms, eyebrow raising in disbelief.

_ You and I both know that's bullshit. _

Janai snorts but the smile doesn't reach her eyes.  _ Your friend was right. You have a foul mouth, General. Should I call him to censor? You are talking to a Queen after all. _

Swallowing thickly, Amaya pointedly does  _ not  _ think about how foul her mouth is or the things it could be doing.  _ One Queen to another,  _ she says instead and pushing down the heat curling low in her belly, stoked by the alcohol and the way Janai's eyes flash in the moonlight. 

She searches quickly for a subject change and she finds it. Amaya's eyebrows crease as she signs  _ Who is that?  _ and points.

Janai follows her finger and her smile turns brittle — something akin to grief. It occurs to Amaya suddenly that this palace is filled with ghosts from her past and is about to suggest they move on, head swimming, when Janai begins to talk, stepping forward.

"My grandmothers," she says and Amaya watches the movement of her lips in a way that isn't intimate. Her words feel too important, too big to simply sign, and Amaya is quiet. "Queens Aditi and Haimi, my mother's mothers. I never met Grandmother Aditi - she died long before I was born."

Amaya slips her hand into Janai's. Even though Janai squeezes her hand in gratitude, she doesn't stop looking at the portrait on the wall. "She was one of the first casualties of the Startouch mage Aaravos before King Avizandum imprisoned him..."

She exhales shakily without finishing and Amaya watches, worried. 

"...and yet he still managed to kill my sister and her lover," Janai finishes and Amaya's eyes widen.  _ So that was who was on the tower that night with Viren, glowing purple and silver- _

"The King of the Dragons imprisoned him in an enchanted mirror that he kept in his nest but it went missing the night Azymondias - your nephew's Zym - was presumed to have been killed. I suspect Katolis' High Mage took it too, along with the Dragon Prince's egg."

Even though she can't hear it, Amaya can sense how frail Janai's words become at the end and her blood boils at the thought of Viren. For not the first time and she knows won't be the last, she wishes  _ she  _ was the one to take his head off his shoulders, not Claudia and Soren. Bitterness sweeps across her tongue as she realizes that both she and Janai's sisters had been felled by the same man indirectly.

If not for Viren, maybe Queen Sarai of Katolis and Queen Khessa of Lux Aurea would still be alive.  _ If not for Viren... _

She pauses.

If not for Viren, Amaya would've never transferred to the Breach in her grief, never would've been promoted to General, never would've led her own Batallion to clash with a certain Sunfire elf and her troops over and over until it literally ended in fire.

If not for Viren, Amaya never would've met Janai.

She studies Janai's profile. It's unsettling to think about a world in which Amaya would still remember how Sarai's nose would crinkle with laughter yet she would be without Janai's hand in her own. Most likely, one or both of them would've been killed in a further battle, never having known the other for a moment.

The thought sends a shiver down her spine and when Janai looks over, concerned, Amaya offers her a weak smile. She releases Janai's hand if only to sign.

_ It's times like these I wish I could've killed Viren myself. _

Janai chuckles but the mirth doesn't reach her eyes. "Me too," she murmurs and looks back up at the painting. "Me too, General."

A tap on her shoulder.  _ Tell me about them. _

A real smile this time.

_ Alright. _

Neither one knows how long they stand there — bathed in moonlight, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at a portrait on the wall. 

Between watching Janai's fingers paint a picture for Amaya to understand rather than just see, Amaya studies the figures in the picture — the strong set of Aditi's jawline versus the easy line of Haimi's shoulders. Aditi stands taller than her wife while Haimi is more slender, willowier, and Amaya sees both of them in Janai's smile from their forever-immortalized expressions. Where Aditi's hair is dark red, so much like Janai's and braided back in twists, Haimi's is a golden yellow and lays on either shoulder. 

The Queens are shoulder-to-shoulder, dressed in similar golden-armor finery to what Amaya remembers the late Queen Khessa wearing and when Amaya points that out, Janai's lips quirk.  _ Ceremonial armor, of course,  _ she signs.  _ Nothing of substance but twice as heavy. I hate the stuff but Khessa loved it. _

_ I remember. _

There's a twinge in Janai's chest at the mention of her sister but it's faded with time, leaving a warm glow instead of memory. She snorts.

_ Haimi hated it too. My mother said it was because she was a soldier long before she was royalty. _

Amaya bumps their shoulders.  _ Like you. _

Janai pauses and Amaya's fearful she's said something wrong when Janai just nods, a contemplative expression working across her face as she turns to Amaya.  _ Like me. _

_ You look like her you know,  _ Amaya signs quickly, eyes darting to the painting of Haimi's face before back to Janai.  _ Your grandmother. Queen Aditi. _

Janai gazes back up at the painting for a moment.

_ I know. Mother used to tell me all the time that it was so peculiar that I looked so much like Aditi and with Khessa it was the opposite, so we gave each other our grandmother's marks. Mine, like Haimi's and hers like Aditi. _

Janai falls silent and Amaya hears the words unsaid —  _ Khessa was like Aditi. Gone too soon, leaving Haimi behind. Leaving  _ Janai  _ behind. _

Amaya studies the painting. It's true — the same rivers of gold that run down Haimi's cheeks and ring her eyes are the same ones on Janai's face, illuminated by the glow of the moon. Her eyes catch on the half-circle at Haimi's upper arms, points of sunshine pointing downwards, before traveling to the dark skin above Haimi's skirt and the markings that are painted there.

She flushes suddenly, looking away.

Her mind reels. If Janai's markings are the same as her grandmother's, that means—

Amaya clears her throat. Janai, oblivious to Amaya's thoughts, looks at her worriedly.  _ Are you alright, do you need something to drink? _

_ No,  _ she shakes her head quickly and waves off Janai's hovering hand.  _ I'm fine. What did you say? _

Focusing on Janai's hands is harder than ever because all Amaya can see is her own, sliding beneath the material of Janai's dress, fingertips sliding over her warm skin, tracing the line of ink across her abdomen-

_ You're turning red!  _ Janai signs, concerned, hand catching her elbow.  _ Are you breathing fine? Are you sure you don't need to sit? _

Amaya needs to do a lot more than  _ sit.  _ She looks everywhere but Janai's hand on her arm, the warmth sinking through the fabric of her sleeves to heat her insides, stirring the fires deep in her stomach to roar higher and Amaya pointedly does  _ not  _ think about how warm she would be if they bodies were pressed together.

For a moment she swears her heart flutters in her chest. As if Janai can hear it, her eyebrows crease further together and Amaya scrambles to divert attention — she is  _ not  _ confessing her five-year-long crush while drunk and thinking about taking off Janai's clothes when her host has been nothing but kind and courteous to her. Her eyes catch on the wall between the next few windows to their right.

_ Your mother? _

Janai still looks worried but when she glances over, she nods.  _ Khessa and I's parents. My mother looked exactly like my grandmothers. _

Amaya walks closer. It's true — the woman in the painting has Haimi's shorter stature but stands with the same authority as Aditi — auburn hair cropped close to her head. On her brow is the same gleaming crown that her mother, her eldest, and now her eldest daughter wears and Amaya thinks of how many elves have worn the diadem and fallen.

She makes a silent vow to not let the same happen to Janai if she can help it.

The next portrait in the row Amaya recognizes. The stern gold eyes of Janai's older sister stare back at her and she's dressed in the ceremonial armor, short scepter in hand. Even in the dark hall, the markings on her cheeks seem to glow and Amaya can imagine Khessa and Janai as children, running around, naive and innocent before a war twisted them apart. Her chin is sharp, shoulders set as she resolutely looks ahead for the rest of time. 

When Janai steps to join her, her presence is heavy and silent at Amaya's side.

Janai doesn't say a thing as they stare up at her sister's portrait, a slight hitch to her breathing. While she told Amaya stories of each monarch before, her fingers don't move as they gaze at Khessa's royal portrait. 

Of their own accord, Amaya's hands start to move.

_ My sister never wanted to be Queen.  _ She sees Janai's head turn to watch her hands but Amaya doesn't look at her, too afraid the words will dissolve of her own nervousness if she does.  _ She just wanted a good home for her son after her husband's death and I wanted the same. Callum was so young — he didn't understand his father was gone. Katolis took us in when we were alone, the three of us against the world. Sarai never intended to fall for Prince Harrow but she was his bodyguard and Captain of the Crown Guard long before they were married, as talented as a warrior she was.  _

Janai dips her head to acknowledge and Amaya chuckles.  _ I remember the first time I caught them sneaking off together during a ball, at their own wedding reception! Sarai swore me to secrecy and promised they would be more discreet but it never worked. Turns out it's hard for a King and Queen to sneak off together when they're the hosts. _

The shaking of Janai's shoulders makes Amaya grin. She reaches down and takes the elf's hand in her own, letting her fingers slot themselves between Janai's and sighing when they slide perfectly into place, like a puzzle.

_ We do the best with what we have,  _ she signs simply and turns to face her friend. The same warmth from before builds behind her ribs but doesn't spread lower into her belly but rather blossoms there at how Janai looks right back at her.  _ I wouldn't be here without Sarai, even though it's without her and Harrow. I wouldn't trade it for the world. _

Janai's eyes soften. 

_ Neither would I,  _ she responds after a moment of hesitation and glances back at her sister's portrait. Amaya squeezes her hand and Janai squeezes back.  _ Thank you, General. _

_ Amaya. _

She inclines her head.  _ Thank you, Amaya. _

They're quiet for a moment before Janai's hand slips from hers — Amaya feels a flash of sorrow at the loss of contact — and comes up to sign.

_ Khessa never married but I knew she fancied Suri; everyone knew even if those two refused to acknowledge each other outside of Khessa's bedchamber. I think she liked it that way, until that moment when she turned and Suri was gone. Aaravos took their body before she had a chance to fight and then she was gone, too.  _

Amaya lays a hand on Janai's arm and the elf smiles hollowly.  _ They used to sneak off, too though. We used to explore these halls as kids so she always knew the best places to hide away in with them; unfortunately, so did I. Catching Suri and Khessa going at it was my talent, I guess. _

They both laugh at the image - Amaya can almost see it now; Janai accidentally stumbling into a room she was never meant to find, her sister in a compromising position with her lover, lips swollen and spilling excuses. It's something Amaya remembers well from Sarai; her sister was a soldier, a formidable warrior, but around Harrow and tipsy on wine she turned into a handsy teenager.

_ I'm sorry they never got a chance to be happy,  _ Amaya says before she's realizing it and when Janai's eyes slide to the hand laid against her arm, Amaya snatches it back with a flush. 

There's a sort of bitterness in Janai's expression but she looks contemplative.

_ I know they valued their time together, even if it wasn't as long as either of them wanted. I have to believe they're together, now, somewhere. _

The silence now is less heavy between them now and Amaya bites back a satisfied smile when Janai takes her hand. She's just turning to sign something when she spots the wall beyond Janai's shoulder and steps around her. Their hands, still intertwined, pull the elf along too and Amaya grins giddily at her. 

_ You didn't tell me you had one too! _

Janai laughs fully at that, bending at the waist for a moment before she's wiping at her eyes and gazing up beside Amaya.  _ I didn't think it was important! All Queens get one. _

Amaya's eyes roam the painting. It's undeniably and beautifully Janai — dressed in a red dress that looks similar to her grandmother's as she stands tall, gold armor at her shoulders and hips, but where Khessa held a scepter, Janai's hand rests on the sheath at her side. Even Queen Haimi's sword was unsheathed, set in front of her with the blade down but Janai is simply half-turned in the portrait, hand resting but not pulling the weapon.

She knows if she squints she could see the glow of the Sunforge blade, the same one that sliced through the collarbone of her armor all those years ago at the Breach. Amaya's gaze travels from Janai's hand to her arm - plated gold armor again, similar to the ones she wore as Golden Knight but not as sincere — before to her shoulders and finally to her face.

There's a fierce expression on her lips but when Amaya leans forward, she sees the proud twinkle in her eye, the way her lips quirk at the edge with victory. It's an expression Amaya knows well, an expression she could never forget.

_ The elf steps back, crouched, and Amaya glances down. There's a smoldering cut in her armor, stinking of burning metal and the elf grins mockingly before beckoning her hand, egging Amaya on as the General herself did moments ago. _

_ Amaya attacks against her better judgment. She's never been one to turn down a fight. Unbeknownst to her, the cut in her armor sears deeper until the heat of the blade burrows near her heart in a way she won't recognize until she's raising her shield to complete the barricade and glances back, smiling, just to find Janai already looking at her. _

_ Janai returns the smile. They win the battle  _ — _ the war. Time marches on. _

A wave breaks Amaya out of her own head. She blinks owlishly for a moment and Janai smirks, crossing her arms.  _ You weren't looking at the art!  _ she mocks with a grin.

_ I am. _

Janai's breath hitches at that and Amaya steps close enough to feel the heat radiating off the Sunfire Queen. Her heart hammers inside her ribs, teetering on the edge of hopeful and Amaya takes a deep breath, not blinking as she leans close enough to feel Janai's breath on the bow of her lips.

Neither one of them blinks. Amaya's eyes trace the soft planes of Janai's face — a face she knows so well and hasn't even realized until now. While the figure of Janai in the painting is striking it doesn't hold a candle to how the elf flushes deeply when Amaya's eyes snag on her lips.

Their noses bump. Amaya huffs, lungs constricting with the close movement as Janai's eyelids flutter and leans in, leans in,  _ leans in— _

She stops.

Janai's eyes open. For a moment they're both frozen, staring at the other and Amaya swallows thickly.

She will not do anything Janai won’t reciprocate — she’s waited  _ five years _ for this moment. Another split-second of waiting is bearable. 

Janai murmurs something Amaya doesn’t catch in the moment before her hands come up to cup Amaya’s cheeks. She steps impossibly closer until their bodies line up, almost touching, like they were meant to be and Amaya can only blink dumbly at her - eyes darting from Janai’s amber eyes to the alluring wine-drunk seam of her lips. They’re flushed already, parted with how Janai stutters to breathe and Amaya’s head spins with the effort of restraining herself. 

When Janai’s tongue darts across her lips, wetting then, Amaya’s resolve weakens. She knows how positively  _ wrecked _ she must look already — chest heaving, pupils dark, flush working down her neck and across her collarbones. (Suddenly, she is all too grateful by the high collar of her tunic.) It all crescendos wonderfully when Janai’s palm settles gently on her cheek and the warmth of her palms burrows pleasantly beneath Amaya’s skin and she sighs languidly. Drunk on something more intoxicating than rich red wine, something headier and far potent, the buzz from her head slithers down the curved knots of her spine to settle between the crux of her thighs and she bites back a groan as her eyes flutter. 

Janai’s eyes burn lustfully across where her top teeth have sunk into her lip. If Amaya is flushed, than Janai is simply awash with a staining blush across her entire body, a thought that sends a jolt through Amaya’s stomach. 

The movement tugs her forward without her knowledge until she’s inevitably pressed further against Janai as the elf gives her one last lingering look before she bridges the gap between them in a single, swift movement. 

At the first touch of their lips, Amaya’s knees threaten to give out and she grasps urgently at Janai’s shoulders as if she's deprived of the contact. Her fingers brush the golden upside-down suns painted on either of Janai’s upper arms and the elf shudders magnificently under her touch. A gasp floats between them — from who she doesn’t know — and Amaya falls head-long gratefully. Janai’s lips are just as warm as the rest of her, soft and red like a ribbon, perfectly parted to fit Amaya’s. She tastes of the glass of wine Amaya watched her drink before the dancefloor and the tang of sweat that shone on her upper lip as she dipped Amaya in front of the entire Gala, breathing heavily, face and arms flushed beautifully. 

It’s  _ perfect _ . 

Amaya leans desperately closer. As if amplified by their proximity, Amaya swears the air around them wavers with heat as Janai tilts her head and deepens the kiss. Amaya kisses back with the same heated fervor, tilting her head as she melts into Janai's lips.

When Amaya tentatively swipes her tongue over the sultry seam of the elf's lips, Janai doesn't hesitate to let her in. The inside of Janai's mouth is just as searing as the rest of her but it's gentle enough that it both soothes and stokes the fire deep in Amaya's belly into a roar, a wildfire.

She hadn't realized they were moving until her back hits the wall and the moment breaks. When Amaya looks up through arousal-lidden eyes, Janai is staring back at her, not blinking, both of their chests heaving so that they almost touch.

Neither one of them says anything but then Amaya is nodding, wrapping her arms around Janai's neck, and it's the only sign either of them needs.

_ Yes. _

Janai's swooping down to capture her lips with an intensity Amaya responds with. It's almost a battle; their teeth scraping together, swallowing each other's ragged breaths, noses bumping and hands roaming. When Janai presses close, trapping her against the wall Amaya pushes back, raising herself up to her tiptoes to claw at her shoulders. The Sunfire elf follows her line of thought quickly, driving her up the wall until Amaya wraps her legs around Janai's hips.

Then she  _ hoists  _ her into the air.

She'll never admit to how she  _ squeaks  _ when Janai's hipbone thrusts to the space within Amaya's spread thighs, slotted perfectly between. Even with Janai's lips claiming her own, she hears the sound and grins wickedly against Amaya's swollen mouth. 

By the way Janai's fingers dig into the soft skin of Amaya's thighs where she holds her aloft, Amaya knows she isn't alone in the blistering lightning that's coursing through her. Every slide of their lips together sends another wave of goosebumps and heat down her spine, pooling where Janai has fit her hips between Amaya's legs, pressed to the crux, and Amaya can't help the groan that drips out when Janai takes her lower lip between two teeth.

She's glad Janai's supporting her, then, because Amaya's entire body turns to jelly.

Amaya nips at Janai's top lip in weak retaliation and Janai's vibrating moan rolls through Amaya's entire body, coaxing a long moan out of her. At the response, Janai pushes ever-closer until every line of their bodies is crushed together and Amaya's legs are tightening around her; the motion squeezing Janai's hips to Amaya's and they both exhale shakily into the other's mouth at it.

The spinning in Amaya's head isn't from the alcohol, or Janai, but a burning for air so she breaks the kiss breathlessly and sucks in large pants. Her fingertips scramble across Janai's back and shoulders, fisting in the fabric, as instead of taking a break as she is Janai instead latches onto her jawline.

Amaya can do nothing but hold onto Janai as she licks and nips at her jawline. Only the vibrations in her throat let Amaya know she's moaning freely into the empty hallway around them and when Janai hesitates for a split-second before biting down at the middle of her neck, Amaya's hands bury themselves in her braids and  _ tug. _

It's Janai's turn to pant and Amaya melts into the fervent heaves against the sensitive skin of her neck. Janai doesn't stop there, though — her lips span the expanse of Amaya's pale neck, kissing every inch and following closely with her tongue, nipping whenever Amaya gasps and soothing it with a lathing lick a moment later. 

Cradling Janai's head in her hands, Amaya suddenly  _ despises  _ the high neckline of her shift. All at once it's too hot inside the stifling fabric, even worse than in the ballroom despite the chill of the empty corridor and Amaya forcefully breaks Janai's lips from her pulse point.

Janai's eyes are dark and blown-wide when she looks up at her, lips swollen and slick and Amaya shivers at the sight. Janai looks uncertain abruptly, lowering her feet back to the ground with the nervous thought that Amaya's changed her mind but Amaya shakes her head and grabs at her hips.

She makes sure Janai isn't going to leave before letting go.  _ Okay,  _ she signs as she inhales heavily, trying in vain to catch her breath but the heat between her thighs and coursing through her veins seems to have permanently stolen it.  _ Move. Alone, now. _

Although she's incapable of forming full sentences, Janai has always been able to understand her perfectly and the doubt disappears from her eyes. This time, though, when she leans in and Amaya meets her halfway, the kiss is softer, slower. It's no less passionate but rounded around the edges, communicating all the longing thoughts and lingering looks from the past five years and Janai gasps into her mouth for a different reason.

Amaya relishes in it. 

They stumble around the corridor. While the kisses start off as quick pecks they grow longer until they're both gasping for breath again, right back to where they were when Amaya's boots dug into the small of Janai's back and Janai bit bruises into Amaya's neck. Already the bite marks are starting to darken, shadowed by the General's jawline and Janai can't help but lean down to chastely kiss them. 

Amaya pants heavily, eyes fluttering closed at the sensation. Blood rushes through her ears, all of it pooling either at the teeth-indented bruises littering her neck above her dress' collar or the space between her thighs and Amaya  _ aches.  _

She wasn't kidding — she can barely contain her fingers from creeping under Janai's clothing and relishing in the elf's vibrating moans as she does so. For not the first time, Amaya is grateful the halls are empty because she's never been one for patience and every second they're not behind closed doors Amaya grows a bit closer to stripping  _ right fucking here. _

The fire beneath her skin is raging higher with every minute and it's beginning to burn away any last shred of decency Amaya's ever clung to.

She wants Janai alone and she wants here there  _ now. _

Janai must sense her frustration at being torn between being kissed senseless and finding a room because she's reaching down and sliding her hands slowly to Amaya's backside. Amaya groans at the slow progression of warm hands down her back and eagerly wraps her legs around Janai's waist when the hands settle on her thighs, skipping over her ass.

_ Plenty of time for that later,  _ Amaya thinks to herself and buries her face in Janai's neck. With Janai's hands holding her against her body as she secrets them towards wherever her bedchamber is, Amaya is free to lathe her affection over sepia skin.

Pale hands roam the bare skin of Janai's bare arms as she nibbles on the fully-exposed neck before her and Janai's throat hums with her moans. There's a stutter to her step when she turns the corner, the offset of her step sending the two off-balance and slamming Amaya's back into the wall.

It knocks the breath out of her and in her surprise, she bites down  _ hard  _ on the skin near Janai's skin.

The growl that vibrates through the elf at that makes Amaya's head spin. One hand disappears from underneath her to lay against her back and after a moment, starts to the inch the fabric upwards. Being as tight-fitting as it is, it doesn't go very far and Janai groans, frustrated.

Amaya chuckles into her mouth but it's dripping with arousal. They need a room and they need it  _ now  _ or she knows they'll do something they'll both regret after.

_ Room,  _ she signs and pushes Janai's chest away so the kiss breaks.  _ Room. Don't care where. _

Janai's eyes gleam after a moment of thought.  _ Close by, _ she mouths and Amaya clings to her as she takes down the hall. Dimly, Amaya thinks how ridiculous they must look — the General of the Standing Batallion's leg wrapped around the Sunfire Queen's waist as the monarch feels up her ass, both of them with rumpled hair and wrinkled clothes.

Amaya is really,  _ really  _ thankful they're alone. 

Janai stops at a shadowy doorway and as close to being alone as they are, Amaya nibbles at the dark bruise on her neck from where she'd bitten down before. The Sunfire elf trembles for a moment as if her knees are going to give out and she yanks Amaya's mouth back to hers as she fumbles the door open.

The room is dark except for the beams of moonlight across the floor and Amaya doesn't  _ care.  _ Janai kicks the door closed behind her and strides to the middle of the room before letting go of Amaya completely.

With a squeal, Amaya drops onto some soft surface — probably a chaise — but every rational thought flies out the window the moment Janai's body follows and with the realization they're completely alone, Amaya lets herself  _ go. _

Wandering hands find places to linger. Janai's lips are just as warm and soft against hers, if not a little more swollen and slick than their first kiss in the hallway but Amaya doesn't care. With the door between them and anyone out wandering the halls at this time of night, Janai's own hands have gotten brave.

Amaya's head spins when Janai's hand settles on her ribs, over her tunic, and her thumb slides ghosts over the slope of Amaya's breast.

When Amaya inhales heavily, Janai pulls back from the kiss. She's hovering above Amaya on the chaise, one knee on either side of her hips and a hand planted near Amaya's neck to keep her above and Amaya heaves from her place on her back. For a heady moment, they simply watch the other as Janai's right hand lays splayed against her ribs.

Janai doesn't look away and doesn't stop her ministrations on Amaya's side. They're both still fully clothed but in the dark, only illuminated by moonlight, it feels more intimate than if they were completely naked.

Amaya all but trembles underneath her gaze but when she sees Janai is as well, her heartbeat soothes. They're both so new to this but they're  _ together  _ and that's what matters in the end. Amaya wouldn't have it any other way.

A thought forms in the back of her head and Amaya reaches for Janai's hand with shaking fingers—

Janai sucks in a sharp gasp. Amaya's hand wraps around the wrist of the hand on her thighs and then she's dragging Janai's palm upwards, over the swell of her breast and the dip of her collarbone, past the base of her neck to settle—

_ To settle— _

Amaya's eyes never leave hers even as she lays Janai's palm against the skin under her jawline. Janai nods, barely able to breathe through the heat that spikes through her and Amaya leads Janai's fingers to slip between the overlapping fabric that makes up her tunic.

When the first button pops open, Janai can't stop herself.

One knee moves from the outside of Amaya's hip to press up between her thighs, pressing Janai closer and Amaya moans languidly as Janai leans forward and takes the newly-exposed piece of skin into her mouth. Head spinning, Janai licks and nibbles at her neck even as her fingers are already traveling to the next button aided by Amaya's guiding hand.

Her nose presses to Amaya's skin — usually so cool but now feverishly warm — and Janai shivers when a thrill goes through her as she reaches the base of Amaya's neck. Every button makes a dull sound as she undoes it, spreading the two flaps of fabric aside with care before lathing her tongue over each patch of exposed skin and Janai unwraps Amaya like a present.

Amaya's hands, though, are not idle either. As Janai kisses down the column of her neck, hands buried in the dark waves on either side of her face, Amaya traces Janai's side with pressing hands. They're insistent and Janai grins when she bites down on Amaya's pulse point and the woman's hands fly to her hips, gripping.

The fingers flex, indenting the soft skin of Janai's hips as Janai lathes her tongue over the sore spot. She leans back to admire her work and captures Amaya's lips for a sweet kiss before — holding her gaze — pops open the next button down. Janai watches Amaya's breath hitch as the fabric falls open, exposing creamy pale collarbones to the moonlight-lit room. Janai lathes her tongue over each protruding bone, fingers working quickly to unbutton the rest of Amaya's tunic as she nips at the peaks. The tunic falls to either side revealing planes and planes of smooth skin above the hem of her trousers and breast bindings and Janai thinks amusedly she's just unwrapped her favorite present.

For a moment all she can do is stare. Amaya is laid out beneath her, smiling softly, and a hand cradles her cheek. Janai leans her head into the touch for a moment before she's moving downward, scraping her teeth across the skin above Amaya's breast bindings and Amaya shudders beneath her. 

When Janai's lip brushes the cotton fabric, though, she slows.

Amaya looks down at her and nods.  _ Go,  _ her eyes seem to say and Amaya is the one to reach around when Janai hesitates and unravel her ties. She props herself up on her elbows and Janai watches, transfixed, as the cloths fall away into her lap.

She's  _ beautiful.  _ Janai doesn't realize she's said such out loud until Amaya flushes and leans back into the pillows.

The blush on her cheeks doesn't stop at her face, though, and Janai reaches out a tentative hand to follow the path it burns. She follows the flush down Amaya's neck, across her chest, stretching to the peaks of her breasts— 

Illuminated by the moonlight and completely bare from the waist-up, Amaya  _ glows.  _ Awestruck, Janai doesn't realize she's reached out until her hand ghosts around the slope of Amaya's left breast and the General groans, sinking into the warmth of her palm.

Janai maps every inch of her skin with her fingertips. Amaya is ticklish, she finds — she dips her hand into the low contours of her stomach and around the sides of her high waist and Amaya squirms in a way that isn't arousal, light laughter dripping off her lips. Eager to taste her General's laughter, Janai leans up to kiss her gently.

Somewhere between the corridor and this chaise,  _ the  _ General became  _ her  _ General and Janai finds she likes the sound of it.

Amaya's lips are warm from their previous kisses and she sighs happily into Janai's mouth. It's slow, soft, just lips against lips and nothing more, and Janai drags her hand back up to the skin just below Amaya's breasts — the one part of her upper body she hasn't touched yet.

Her hand stops. Amaya whines impatiently into her mouth, rolling her hips so that her chest presses upwards but Janai keeps her hand where it is. The next time their lips part to suck in air, though, she plants a kiss on the corner of Amaya's mouth and works downward from there.

Amaya's hands fly to her hair. Janai smiles at the sensation of Amaya burying her long fingers in her braids, not guiding her lips but joining them instead and Janai kisses the purpling bruises on the side of her neck sweetly. That earns another low moan, a roll of Amaya's hips against the chaise and Janai doesn't linger this time.

She pauses right before her mouth reaches where Amaya's breast bindings pressed into the skin and instead of continuing, kisses the pink line. Amaya's chest stutters with the weight of her frustrated sigh and Janai lets her lower lip drag along the seam for a moment before shifting.

Janai slips her knees between Amaya's thighs and presses her lips chastely to the hem of her trousers. Amaya's stomach rolls beneath her with her moans and Janai works her way  _ up  _ this time, kissing each line of her abdomen and the scars that litter it, skirting around her belly button and tracing the gentle curves of her hips and waist.

By the time she's reached the skin beneath Amaya's breasts —  _ again  _ — her lover is panting headily, hips working in not-so-subtle but unconscious circles against the chaise. Her head is thrown back, ears and neck flushed, hair a mess and her pupils are blown wide when Janai taps her pointer finger to her hip to get her attention.

The evidence that Amaya's literally  _ trembling  _ in anticipation of her touch sends lightning coursing down Janai's spine. Teasingly slow, enough that Amaya almost growls at her, Janai dips her head and — still holding her General's gaze — presses a closed-mouth kiss to the peak of her breast.

Amaya's long, relieved sigh deflates her chest as Janai kisses the other just as sweetly. Then, still staring up at the woman laid out beneath her, Janai closes her lips around her left nipple, rolling her tongue around the bud before creating a seal and  _ sucks. _

The response is immediate. Amaya's hips jump as her back arches severely, so pent up that the sensation of Janai's tongue circling her nipple while being trapped inside the wet heat of her mouth sends her flying wildly over the edge. Dimly, Amaya registers that she's crying out hoarsely as she shakes and quivers in Janai's arms, mouth open in a silent pant as she comes down off the high in a silent pant that gets stick somewhere between her lungs and tongue.

Her whole world goes  _ white. _

Janai watches Amaya come apart beneath her. Shaking arms claw at her shoulders and Janai kisses up the side of her neck as she shudders and gasps her way down from the cliff edge that  _ Janai  _ sent her careening over.

It fills her with a lustful pride — watching Amaya come because of  _ her.  _ Even as her entire body quakes Janai presses close and holds her, peppering kisses across her cheeks and against her hairline, ending with a peck to the tip of her nose as Amaya's spasms become nothing more than small quivers.

_ Welcome back,  _ she signs smugly when Amaya's unwound her arms from Janai's neck. Through lidded, blissed-out eyelids Amaya glares half-heartedly in a way that's ruined by the satiated smile on her face and Janai can't help but lean down and kiss.  _ Good? _

_ Great,  _ Amaya signs with still-shaking fingers and Janai feels her leg hook around her waist before the world turns on its axis and  _ her  _ back hits the chaise instead. Janai blinks as Amaya grins victoriously, perched on her thighs, before she leans down to brush her lips over the seam of Janai's.

The tables have turned. Janai lifts her head from the pillows to kiss back with more pressure but Amaya clicks her tongue, turning her head away so Janai falls back into the chaise.

She's not  _ too _ upset though — Amaya leaning forward like this makes her breasts drag across the front of Janai's dress and Janai sucks in a sharp breath at the dull sensation but it's enough to light every nerve in her body on fire.

Every nerve that wasn't  _ already  _ smoldering.

Amaya sits up to settle herself against the firm skin of Janai's lower abdomen and Janai cups her hips, thumbing her finger across the curves. For a moment they just stay there; staring at each other in the moonlight before Amaya grins. 

_ My turn. _

Janai swallows thickly at the words, a motion which Amaya must catch because her smile turns shit-eating and she's leaning back down to kiss the dark column of Janai's neck. Pinned down by Amaya's body weight as she is, Janai can do nothing but moan as Amaya mirrors her earlier ministrations against her. 

Suddenly Janai  _ gets it.  _

When Amaya slips her dress off one shoulder and then the other, kissing each marking that lies there before moving inwards, Janai  _ gets it.  _ When Janai exhales shakily as Amaya's hand fondles the slope of her breast through her dress material until she presses a thumb to the erect nipple as she nibbles at her earlobe and Janai's vision goes white and starry —  _ she gets it. _

As Amaya collapses on her after, kissing the sweaty skin of Janai's collarbone as their chests press together and they both drift off, Janai  _ gets it.  _ She gets the stories her mother told her of her grandmother's grand love, the looks shared between Khessa and Suri when no one was looking, the clasp of Callum and Rayla's hands on the dancefloor as they spun circles around the other, four intertwined with five.

Although she dares not say it, Janai recognizes it.  _ Love. _

She kisses Amaya's forehead; the only skin she can reach, and closes her eyes. It's been  _ five years.  _ They deserve some rest.

Amaya's shifting makes Janai open her eyes.  _ Tired already, My Radiance? _

_ It's 'Your Radiance,'  _ Janai chuckles and Amaya's lips quirk knowingly.

_ I know. That's what I said. _

Janai wraps her arms around the woman, clutching her against her body and buries her face in her hair. Since the end of the war, Amaya's begun to grow her hair out. Years ago, on the back of Janai's griffin flying towards the Storm Spire, Janai had asked her about the close cropping of her hair.

_ "Your hair," Janai says around the third hour into their flight. It is silent, eerily  _ —  _ and Janai's chest is hollow. She wonders if striking up a conversation with her...companion will fill the emptiness in her stomach and stop her mind from replaying the moment Khessa fell over the edge, screaming, too far away to catch, always too far _ — 

_ Amaya's eyebrows crease. When her gloved hand comes up to tug at the fringe around her eye, Janai huffs. Too bad she didn't bring Kazi along; their help would've been invaluable. _

_ If Janai thinks too long about their jumbled-together plan, she'll go mad so instead she nods. "Your hair  _ —  _ why is it short?" _

_ She knew soldiers that preferred short hair in her force for combat reasons but something nags at her, telling her that Amaya's shorn hair isn't for convenience. Janai searches through the saddlebags and produces a short roll of parchment and a piece of charcoal, turning on the saddle so that Amaya can see her lips properly. _

_ Until the two of them either reunite with Kazi, Amaya's interpreter from her Batallion or Janai learns the finger-spelled language, they're reliant on writing. Janai hands the paper over and after a moment, Amaya smooths the parchment over her thigh and begins to write. _

_ The air whips past them, ruffling the corners of the parchment and Janai watches Amaya's face as she writes. The human General's face is softer in daylight rather than illuminated by the harsh shadows of the fire cell in Lux Aurea and Janai studies the curve of her shoulders. If not for having seen her without her armor, Janai would think she is a formidable, unflinching warrior but underneath it all Amaya is the same as her  _ —  _ simply a human rather than elf. Her petite shoulders carry the weight of her people just like Janai's now do and while the armor cuts an impressive figure, Janai thinks dimly she prefers the woman without. _

_ She blinks. Amaya is smiling a bit bitterly, holding out the parchment for Janai to read. She takes it. _

I lost my sister too,  _ she's written and Janai looks up sharply, half-tempted to shove the parchment back at Amaya but Amaya simply nods, motioning for her to continue.  _ In my family, in my culture, we cut our hair after the loss of a loved one. Sarai was the love of my life, my older sister, the sword in my hand as much as I was the shield in hers. When we lost her, I was hurt. There was nothing I could do. I only heard about it after. I was a warrior, she was my sister, and I couldn't save her in the end. I haven't let it grow out since.

_ "So you keep it short to honor her?" Janai ponders when she looks up. _

_ Amaya nods, motioning for the parchment back and Janai hands it over. The General only scribbles a single line this time before holding it out and Janai's eyes skip over the words. _

I keep it short because I miss her. When I am happy again, as I was with her, then I'll let it be.

_ Janai had swallowed thickly, handing the paper back and turning on the saddle. The sky had stretched infintely in front of them and they rode in silence until the Storm Spire loomed in the distance. _

_ They hadn't had time to talk after that. _

Amaya taps her cheek and Janai blinks, jarred from the memory.  _ You're smiling. What are you thinking about? _

_ You,  _ Janai points simply and chuckles at how the woman's eyebrows crease.

_ Me? _

_ Your hair,  _ she corrects and spins a loose curl around her finger.  _ About how you told me once you wouldn't grow it out again until you're happy. _

She looks away when she signs it — it is not her place to ask, after all, even if she craves to, wishes to see Amaya's brown eyes light up as she does when she smiles widely, a smile meant for  _ Janai  _ only in the still darkness of the drawing room but Janai knows she can't take credit for any happiness Amaya feels.

A thumb presses to her chin, fingers curling underneath and Janai startles. Amaya turns her head and smiles softly, other hand coming up.

_ I am happy,  _ she simply signs and leans in. Their lips brush and Janai sighs, melting into the touch, hands coming to rest against the curves of Amaya's hips. Her eyes are so close to being shut that she almost misses how Amaya's fingers move.

_ You make me happy. _

Janai —  _ Janai, makes her happy.  _ She knows she isn't the singular source of Amaya's newfound happiness since the war's end; she has her nephews, Rayla, Gren, her soldiers and friends back home, but Janai takes what she can get, reciveing what she's given.

She leans up to capture Amaya's lips, drawing her back down until every line of their body is pressed together again. When they break for air, foreheads coming to rest against each other's as they gaze into each other's eyes, Janai grins softly.

_ You make me happy, too,  _ she signs and the moment Amaya's eyes break from her hands to her face, she's cupping Janai's cheeks and pulling her back in, flipping their bodies.

Janai will follow Amaya anywhere and she's no happier than when Amaya is beneath her, legs wrapped around her hips and drawing her in for another searing kiss. She knows suddenly they will not leave this room anytime soon, and swipes her tongue over Amaya's lips. There's no hesitation in how Amaya opens her mouth, inviting her in.

Even as Janai's tongue slips into Amaya's mouth and her hands explore her body again, Janai knows this moment goes far beyond any kind of sexual feelings — Amaya's let her map the upper part of her body, every dip and curve of her skin and Janai the same — but it goes deeper than that, more  _ intimate. _

They've let each other in and Janai knows she wouldn't have it any other way.

By the way Amaya peers up at her through lidded eyes, gasping from the kiss but eyes gleaming in ways that Janai now understands, she knows Amaya shares the sentiment without saying a word.

Suddenly every moment from the last five years is worth it — the long, lingering looks she thought went unnoticed, the brushing of their hands when they walked together, the blushes on cheeks before turning away. It was there the whole time and Janai is determined not to waste a single second more.

Amaya's legs tighten around her, drawing her impossibly closer, and her answer is in the shape of her lips.

_ Yes. _


	2. (gasping for air)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You are beneath me after all._
> 
> Amaya's eyes burn. _In rank or in bed?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IT IS LAID EASE — YOU BEGGED AND I DELIVERED. ENJOY LITERALLY 11.1K OF SMUT. IT'S JUST SMUT. THEY'RE HORNY, I'M HORNY, WE'RE ALL HORNY. THAT'S IT THAT'S ALL THIS IS ENJOY SINNERS DON'T FORGET TO FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER @ korrqsato AND STAN JANAYA BY E I'M GONNA GO CRASH NOW THIS TOOK ME A WHOLE GODDAMN WEEK

_Would you like a tour?_

Amaya hums, smiling from where she's laid atop Janai's chest, bare breasts pressed into the fabric of the Sunfire Queen's dress. _If it ends like the last tour I think I would,_ she chuckles and Janai leans up to kiss her soundly.

_I think you should button your dress first then, General._

Her eyes flash. _We slept together. It's Amaya._

_Do you tell everyone you sleep with to call you Amaya? Was that all I had to do?_

Snorting, Amaya rolls off her to collect her dress. The navy-teal tunic had come off somewhere after Amaya rucked Janai's dress around her hips so she could slide a hand up to properly map her skin like Janai did she — neither had said a word but the lower part of their bodies had remained untouched. 

It had seemed too big a step to take in a dark drawing room at the time.

Janai rolls to her side to watch as her lover slips the dress back on. Standing as she is instead of laying on the chaise beneath her, Amaya's form is highlighted in different shadows cast by the large windows at the other end of the room and Janai lets her eyes freely roam her topless form — unabashed. Now that she's allowed to look freely, Janai thinks she'll never stop.

She wonders how she ever _stopped_ looking, before. 

As her long fingers make quick work of the buttons, Janai watches appreciatively. In the moonlight, the bruises on her neck darken and Janai can't help but press her thighs together as her eyes catch on the flushed peaks of Amaya's breasts. It's something she never would've expected — how heavy Amaya's breasts were in her hands after the binding had been removed. _Armor is unforgiving,_ Amaya had signed somewhere between when Janai's fingers pinched at her nipple and she took the stiff bud into her mouth for a second time. One hand had tangled in the hairs at the nape of Janai's neck while the other signed easily as Amaya groaned. _I stopped noticing how tight they were after a time._

Janai had let her palm grow warm with a quick thought and swallowed Amaya's resulting gasp when she laid the hand against the spit-slick nipple. Even just the memory has Janai flushing deeply and Amaya turns to smirk at her, tunic half-unbuttoned.

_Enjoying the show Your Radiance?_

She props her cheek on the heel of her palm. _Immensely,_ Janai grins wickedly back. _And I thought it was 'Your Radiance.'_

Amaya's smirk melts into a smile. She crosses the room in a heartbeat and Janai throws her arms around her neck as Amaya captures her lips in a bruising kiss that makes her ribs quake. Every nerve seems to hum wonderfully under Amaya's mouth and Janai pants when Amaya pulls back.

_We should get back. You'll be missed._

Janai's still half-dazed from the kiss but waves her hand dismissively. _They'll get on fine without me. They have before; besides my work is done for the night. Diplomacy, check. Ancient traditional dance, check._

_You mean the Royal Waltz?_

The tilt of Amaya's lips is knowing and Janai props herself up on her elbows, not missing how Amaya's eyes flash to how the neckline and straps of her dress have been shimmied down her shoulders. Janai raises an eyebrow hesitantly, pulse shallow and quick in her ears. 

_You...know about the Royal Waltz?_

_It's in every Sunfire elf history book,_ Amaya rolls her eyes before crossing her arms once she's done speaking. Janai pointedly does _not_ look at how her unbound breasts shift at the movement. _Contrary to popular belief, I am not an idiot. I know what the Royal Waltz means, Janai, even if you didn't want me to._

She blinks. Amaya's averted her eyes, every ounce of confidence and teasing suddenly gone from her body language as she all but hunches in on herself. Her crossed arms have become a hug, a shield and Janai sits up from the chaise, heart pounding. 

How could she have been so _stupid?_

"Amaya, no, wait—" she protests before scolding herself. Amaya's half-turned away from her, unable to see her mouth and Janai steps forward until she's barely a pace away.

It's such a stark contrast from their kiss in the hallway that Janai swallows thickly.

Her hand hovers in the air for a beat before setting against Amaya's forearm. Not a single movement — the General, _her_ General, doesn't move a single muscle, refusing to look at her beyond a quick side glance that slides away a moment later. Janai bites her lip, debating the best way to get her attention before shaking her grip on Amaya's arm urgently. 

"Amaya," she pleads, words literally falling on deaf ears, "Amaya, please. _Look at me."_

Her voice is desperate, pleading but still Amaya doesn't move. Sudden irritation flashes through her at her insistence for Amaya to _understand what she's trying to say_ and Janai _yanks_ at her arm, forcing Amaya to swivel with the motion. "Amaya!" she snaps but Amaya's eyes flash and she rips her arm from Janai's grasp.

She bites back a gasp, eyes widening. Amaya's face is creased in rage, the same mouth that had been wide with laughter now thin with anger and lips pale. Looking utterly _furious_ when she jabs a finger to the middle of Janai's chest, Janai takes a half-step back out of instinct, stunned to silence.

It's been _years_ since she's seen Amaya this angry — and even longer since Amaya's been this furious with _her._ The last time Janai saw her this worked up was at Viren's trial and subsequent execution and before even that was at the Breach so long ago, teeth gritted as she glared at Janai over the top of her shield, ready to protect her Batallion and country with her own body if need be.

Amaya's fingers _fly._

 _I am no idiot,_ she seethes and pushes the finger more firmly against Janai's chest between each sign. Her chest heaves, nostrils flaring. _And I will not be made to be the fool at a peace Gala! I know what the dance meant, Janai, I knew long before I extended my hand to you. I never meant for you to lead through the Waltz, staring at me like you were, holding me as you were, only to make a mockery of me! I know the significance behind the Chosen. I know what everyone in that goddamn ballroom thought when you dipped me for a bit too long and I led you away!_

Her jabbing finger turns to a fist and Amaya pounds at her for a moment before she lowers her head, hands falling to her sides. Time hangs like a bated breath between them and Janai feels frozen to the spot until Amaya raises her chin.

Tears drip down her cheeks, sliding from slitted eyes. Janai shivers. Amaya's knuckles are white with anger when she signs but her body language is _defeated_ above anything else.

 _I let myself think you meant it. The dance, the kiss, the fuck_ — _all of it. That you felt the same as I but I was wrong. You should be ashamed._

The words are clipped, short, and Janai's heart bottoms out hollowly.

She doesn't realize she's reaching out until Amaya's eyes widen in the moment before Janai's hand wraps tightly around her wrist. Suddenly she's back to that moment when Amaya was her prisoner, stripped of her armor, insisting that danger was coming to Lux Aurea after she grabbed at Janai's arm, face creased with panic. Amaya's face is now the one contorted with anger. Her lips twist as she tries to pry Janai's fingers but Janai holds all the tighter, stepping forward until their bodies almost touch and she can jerk Amaya to her, arm between their heaving chests. 

Her eyes flash to Janai's face and Janai lets her eyes soften, pleading. 

_Please,_ she signs beseechingly, making sure Amaya is looking at her hand. _Listen._

Nothing on Amaya's face moves. Janai is reminded that she is a warrior above all else, a soldier, a General. She will not reveal her hand if she does not want to. She's been born and bred in battle tactics.

 _Janai_ has been too, though, and she does something she's never done before.

She lays out her plan before Amaya wholeheartedly. Her hand releases Amaya's wrist before it begins to fly with the urgency for Amaya to _see,_ to _understand,_ to _listen_ before she turns away and Janai loses her for good.

 _You are no idiot, Amaya. It was never my intention to lead you on or make you look like a fool_ — _I meant every step in that dance, every kiss in the hallway, every kiss in here. I didn't know you knew what the dance meant but I was going to wait to tell you, thinking you were leading_ me _on._

Still refusing to look her in the eye, Amaya says nothing and Janai sighs. Her shoulders sag. _I care about you, Amaya, even when I wish I wouldn't. I've tried for five years to get rid of my affection for you but it's lingered. I didn't dare hope until now you felt the same but you are human and I am Lux Aurea's Queen. Even if you did, I can't give you the life and feelings you deserve in return for your love. If you want to return to the party I won't stop you. I am sorry to have stopped you._

Silence falls between them. Janai digs her fingernails into the palm of her hands as they fall to lay at her sides. Abruptly the room feels too small for her words and Janai swallows the phrase that threatens to roll off her tongue, has been threatening to roll off her tongue since she first kissed Amaya in front of her portrait. Since she pressed Amaya against the wall, since Amaya wrapped her long legs around Janai's hips, since the door to the drawing room banged open, since Janai lapped at her flushed nipples until Amaya was reduced to a panting mess beneath her.

She startles at the hand against her cheek. When Janai's chin shoots up Amaya is standing fully facing her, looking her in the eye, a small smile across her lips. There's still tears hovering in her lashline but she thumbs her way across Janai's cheekbone before bringing her hand up to sign.

 _What a pair we make. Besides, I have no clue how to get back to the party. I don't want to get lost_ — _you did promise me a tour._

Janai laughs but it's halfway to a sob. Relief rushes through her as Amaya's hand comes to rest below her chin, cupping the skin near her ear and draw her down into a soft kiss. At the first touch of their lips — slow, steady, _perfect_ — Janai's knees threaten to give out.

Above anything else the kiss is _tender_ . Amaya's lips are slightly chapped, still flushed from their earlier activities but rounded wonderfully and Janai's hands hover in the air around Amaya's hips, waiting, _asking_. But then Amaya is making a sound of willing impatience and moves her hand from Janai's neck to set each of her palms against the curve of her waist.

An _answer_.

Janai tilts her head. Amaya's tongue gently prods the seam of her mouth, asking, inviting, _waiting in return_ , and Janai barely pauses before opening them. But where the motion was seducing before, now it only sends warmth down Janai's spine.

Her nose bumps against Amaya's cheek and their combined chuckles break the kiss a moment later. Janai grins at her, their foreheads leaning against the other and she thumbs a finger over Amaya's lips, swiping away a bit of spit.

Amaya watches her. _Is this alright?_ Janai signs and she nods.

_It's perfect._

Neither one knows how long they stay there — somewhere in the middle of it all Amaya's hands come up to steady herself against Janai's shoulders and Janai draws her ever-closer with the curling of her fingers against Amaya's hips. Their lips are warm, flushed as they slide against each other and there's a feeling unlike the lightning of before that settles between Amaya's thighs.

They're both breathing heavily when they pull back and Amaya rocks back onto her heels from her tip-toes. Although it isn't much, the Sunfire Queen is just a bit taller than her that requires her to balance on her toes to reach her lips.

Amaya smiles softly when she finally opens her eyes. _I'm sorry,_ she admits and Janai's eyebrows crease. She stops holding Amaya to reply.

_Why?_

_For not believing you were genuine with me,_ Amaya shrugs and presses a kiss to the closest skin she can find — the curve of Janai's shoulder. Neither one of them misses nor mentions how Janai's breath hitches for a moment. _For accusing you of the same thing I was guilty of._

Janai's hand settles against her cheek. _That is?_

_For being in love._

She searches Janai's eyes. Close enough their noses would bump if either of them shifted, Amaya finds her unable to blink in nervous anticipation of Janai's response.

There's a split-second in which Janai looks surprised and Amaya's halfway to regretting the movement of her fingers when Janai's face breaks into a bright smile and she's swooping back in to sweetly capture her lips. Amaya sighs, melting into her body as she opens her mouth when Janai's tongue gently asks for entrance. Tilting her face when Janai's hands frame her cheeks, Amaya swallows Janai's incandescent smile the same way Janai devours hers.

Time seems to melt around them. When they finally separate, eyes fluttering open and warm blushes spreading across cheeks and hands, the shadows that fall across them have shifted. Amaya's hands brush up from their gentle hold of Janai's waist to caress her sides and Janai smiles warmly.

_You would be right, General Amaya. I love you._

Amaya grins back, unable to stop it spreading so wide her cheeks hurt. She would be content to stay here forever; wrapped in Janai's arms, still topless, her body buzzing pleasantly with the lingering sensations of alcohol and arousal coursing through her. _I love you too. I think I'll take that tour now if I'm going to be around more often._

Janai's returning smile is immediate and any last butterflies stirring in Amaya's stomach at the bold words disintegrate. In hindsight she wonders how she ever could have feared Janai not returning her affections — it's written so clearly on every line of her face Amaya _aches._ She knows all too well that it's clear as day across her own. Amaya raises herself to her tiptoes and with a questioning, long gaze presses her lips chastely to Janai's.

Janai snorts when Amaya pulls back and she grins cockily. _What, that good?_

 _I think you might need to fully dress before we continue the tour,_ Janai chuckles and gestures to how Amaya's tunic still falls open under her breasts. _I wouldn't want to push our luck on the palace being empty on the way to my bedchamber even though I am quite enjoying the view._

Amaya smirks. _The tour ends at your bedchamber? I wish I knew that sooner._

_As if you would've waited._

_Neither would've you,_ Amaya points out and screws up her face for a moment in thought before buttoning her tunic fully. Janai's eyebrows shoot up.

"Your b-bindings," she stutters and Amaya's grin is victorious before she's leaning into Janai so the elf can feel how her breasts press against her own chest, separated by their clothing but unbound in Amaya's case.

 _You hold onto them,_ she signs and presses the roll — which has appeared in her hand so suddenly Janai's head spins — before brushing by her. _I won't need them where we're going._

Janai can only turn and gape bluntly. Amaya bends down to retrieve something from the floor and Janai looks away quickly, flushing as she stuffs the bindings into the slim pocket at the hip of her dress.

When she looks back at Amaya she's smirking as if she knows what Janai is blushing about and steps close. Her hand raises to adjust the strap of Janai's dress on her shoulder and their eyes meet briefly as Janai's breath hitches.

_You were saying?_

Janai shuts her mouth with a click and rearranges her face into something she hopes is more neutral and not telling to the wetness pooling between her thighs at even the _thought_ of Amaya in her bedchamber, much less without her breast bindings. She straightens and offers her arm. _You are insatiable,_ she accuses her lover before smiling mischievously. _Let's hope the Gala hasn't winded down and the halls are still empty, then. There's not many drawing rooms on the way to my chambers from here._

 _Guess we'll have to make do,_ Amaya agrees before looping her arm through Janai's. _Any broom closets? They've worked before._

Janai raises an eyebrow as they exit the room and she closes the door behind them. She knows she'll never be able to simply walk by this drawing room ever again without thinking about Amaya's beautiful gasps that Janai gladly swallowed as she lapped at the curves of her _very_ ample breasts.

_Before? Should I be jealous?_

Amaya snorts as they wander down the hall. Even as they walk Janai's thighs feel sticky where they press together and she hopes Amaya is halfway to where she is because as soon as her bedchamber doors close she's going to lose every shred of decency and patience she managed to hold onto in that damned drawing room. 

_Hardly. She's married now._

_Anyone I know?_ Janai smiles, amused and Amaya looks contemplative for a moment.

_You have met Evenere's Princess Consort, correct?_

Janai's mouth drops open and she stops dead in the hall. "You did _not,"_ she says disbelievingly and Amaya half-turns, grinning wickedly.

 _My sister and her husband were not the only ones skilled at finding empty rooms in a large castle to use during balls,_ she signs proudly _. It was easier for me, being a guard. I was able to find little nooks and crannies in the castle no one else knew about. Opeli wasn't that high-ranking at the time. We were young. If you ever visit I could share my knowledge with you as well if you're so jealous._

Even though she looks a bit wistful there's no hostility or bitterness in her expression and Janai raises an eyebrow. _What happened?_

Amaya freezes, blinks.

Janai bites down on her tongue. _Shit —_ she's a fucking idiot. She's reaching out, apology already halfway off her lips when Amaya just shakes her shoulders a bit and looks down the hall, biting her lip.

_I joined the Standing Batallion at the Breach. She did not. I did not expect her to._

The words on her tongue die in an instant. In the last five years through their letters and various, dispersed interactions Janai has learned about every moment of Amaya's life. She only joined the Standing Batallion after _—_

_After—_

Amaya's hand slips into hers. _I can see it in your eyes. Don't apologize._

 _I shouldn't have asked. It wasn't my place,_ Janai admits and Amaya tilts her head in acknowledgment before squeezing her hand.

_Doesn't mean you didn't deserve to know. We were young, I was foolish and new to court life alongside Sarai. It wasn't the time nor place and we parted amicably, if not mournfully. I am glad she's happy, as I know she is I._

Janai looks down at their clasped hands and squeezes back. Amaya's smile is teary when she looks up.

_Is it my turn?_

Amaya's wet expression turns to a surprised snort and she nods, interlocking their fingers. _Broom closet is my trophy. Yours?_

_Pantry._

It's Amaya's turn to look shocked and Janai bursts into laughter as they turn the hall. The sound echoes down the long corridor before bouncing back and she signs through her mirth. _Her name was Gajra, one of the servants. I bumped into her in the kitchens sneaking back into the palace after training late into the night against my mother's orders that I was a princess not a foot solider and I ended up dragging her into the pantry when I heard someone coming. One thing led to another and the shelves ended up being extremely handy. She was much shorter than you._

Chuckling, Amaya rolls her eyes. _How romantic._

_I try._

They turn another corner and then Janai's bedroom looms on the other end. Amaya must notice how her spine straightens because she's turning, hands coming up to ask in the moment before Janai yanks her to the side and captures her wrists in her palms, stilling any movement.

Janai's hips drive her into the wall and Amaya smothers a moan between pressed lips but Janai isn't paying attention. She waits a beat before peering around the corner. Exhaling, she focuses at the woman she's crowded against the wall.

"No guards," Janai whispers before she must notice how flushed Amaya's cheeks are and rips her hand away, stepping back a moment later. Even in the moonlit shadows, Amaya can see how she blushes profusely and watches the stuttering lilt to her lips before she's stepping forward and grabbing Janai's hand.

_You said no guards?_

Janai nods. Amaya's grin turns dripping and Janai forces herself not to start when her thumb strokes against the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. _Then what are we waiting for?_

"Amaya _—_ "

She's ignored entirely and Amaya's lips crash into hers. Any thread of resistance snaps immediately and Janai is crushing Amaya's hips to her own, gripping them like they're an anchor and she's floating out to sea and roughly swallows Amaya's heaving pant.

Somehow they must stumble down the hall because then Janai opens her eyes long enough to see Amaya's _gleam_ and her back is being pushed into the carved doors of the Sunfire Queen's bedchamber. Amaya's on her a moment later, hands wandering from her shoulders to her collarbones to the curve of her chest hidden beneath her dress and she breaks the kiss to bury her face in Janai's jawline.

Janai's head falls against the heavy double doors as she pants. Amaya presses every line of their body together and with every breath, Janai is reminded how Amaya is unbound beneath her tunic. Suddenly she's more breathless than she can remember and slams her eyes closed as a thought forms dimly in the back of her alcohol-and-Amaya-tipsy mind. 

Amaya's hands flex against her hips, slamming her ass back against the wood as she nips harshly at the bruises she'd already bitten into Janai's neck from before and the thought falls apart beautifully. Janai gasps, burying her hands in the soft waves of Amaya's shoulder-length hair and urging her on with fingers pressed to the back of her neck.

The thought pieces itself back together slowly. Panting, completely falling to pieces under Amaya's searing lips, Janai's hand scrambles to the side feeling for the doorknob. They're close, _so close—_

Janai trips backward as the door disappears suddenly and Amaya's teeth knock against her neck, achingly painful and causing her to see stars. Without precedent, they both stumble into the dark sitting room preceding Janai's bedchamber and Janai's barely able to close the door behind them before Amaya is pinning her to the surface with hot fingers and ever hotter lips.

In the dark, Janai can barely see anything but she pinpoints the slope of Amaya's head as she laps at her neck. She gasps, no longer concerned with being disturbed and kicks off her heels as she wrenches Amaya's mouth back up to her own. The absence of her shoes evens out their height differences marginally but it's just enough that Amaya takes _great_ advantage of that fact.

She swallows the wicked line of Amaya's mouth like air. As Janai clutches at her face and shoulders Amaya's own hands lay at the small of her back and the skin between her shoulder blades, so similar to when Janai dipped her for the whole ballroom to see that Janai shivers.

Amaya starts to pull back but Janai holds her firm. "Fine," she gasps out and her lips bump Amaya's cheek. "Bedroom. _Now."_

It's pitch black in the sitting room but Amaya must somehow understand her uttered words because her hands slide from the firm lines of Janai's back to curl around the curve of her ass and Janai bites down on her top lip as she moans indulgently. Her feet leave the ground and she wraps them firmly around Amaya's wide hips a heartbeat later, giddy and ready to _pop_ just by their close vicinity. Her knee hooks around the curve of Amaya's waist and she frames Amaya's face with her hands, pressing her mouth ever-closer to Amaya's.

The moment they reach the bed _— if they ever do —_ Janai knows she's a _goner._ If Amaya made her come simply by pinching her nipple between two fingers while kissing her neck Janai trembles minutely at the thought of what her long fingers and talented tongue will do to her _next._

Amaya strides forward easily. It's no surprise Amaya can hold her as tenderly as she does while licking into her mouth, showing no strain at Janai's weight _—_ she is as much a solider as Janai once was. At the thought Janai clutches at her powerful shoulders, sliding her bare palms up and down the chiseled lines of Amaya's arms that she _knows_ are there without needing to look. 

She's memorized them. They're burned beautifully into Janai's mind.

The tight sleeves of Amaya's tunic ripple with the pressure of Janai's palms and Janai is pressing ever-closer as Amaya toes open the doors to her bedchamber.

Bright torchlight greets them. Janai breaks the kiss, stunned for a moment and Amaya takes the opportunity to pepper searing kisses across her cheek in journey to the skin beneath her ear. Her teeth are just scraping the sensitive patch when Amaya stumbles slightly.

Amaya yelps into her neck and falls forward. Clinging to Amaya, Janai can only close her eyes and wait to hit the ground.

She's distributed firmly onto some surface and blinks. Amaya is panting in front of her, their faces even with where Janai's sitting and Janai lets her fingers roam Amaya's arms and sides, all worry, the arousal dimming. _Are you okay?_

 _Fine,_ Amaya huffs and smiles thinly. She's gripping a spot just above her hip with clenched fingers and Janai brushes her hand against the same spot, atop Amaya's hand, concerned. _Bumped into the side of this damned table. Sorry for almost dropping you._

Janai snorts. _I'm not fragile, General. Thought you just got tired of carrying me._

 _Never,_ Amaya announces stoutly and leans in to brush her lips across Janai's. Sighing, Janai frames her jawline with her thumbs for a moment before pulling away and chuckling.

_What?_

She hops off the tabletop. _I told my handmaids I wouldn't be back until late but the torches are lit anyway._

_To be fair we weren't very discreet._

Janai rolls her eyes at Amaya's smirk. _The dance or the sneaking out part?_

_Does it matter either way?_

_Not really,_ she admits and watches Amaya's gaze wander around the room. She shouldn't be surprised, really _—_ the Sunfire Queen's bedchamber is the epitome of the wealth of Lux Aurea. 

If Amaya thought the city itself seemed to be made of gold, reflecting every last inch of sunlight, then Janai's quarters is tenfold that. Every surface seems to shimmer. Anything not covered in gold is dark red wood carved with designs Amaya doesn't even try to pinpoint but recognizes the continuous circles of the pattern. It's the same decoration as the swirls in Janai's armor and embroidered onto her dress even now in slightly darker thread than the dress' fabric.

Amaya walks further into the room. In one corner of the room roars a large fireplace that casts dancing shadows across the floor and Amaya trails her fingertips over the table and chairs near it, the top holding a teapot and two teacups.

Janai snorts when Amaya turns to raise an eyebrow. "Probably figured I wouldn't be coming back alone tonight," she shrugs easily and joins Amaya in front of the fireplace, wrapping her arms around the woman's waist.

She slots her head in the space between Amaya's shoulder and neck. Laughter rumbles pleasantly down her body from Amaya's and Janai smiles.

"What?"

Amaya turns in her embrace. _It seems we were the last two to know the other's feelings. I feel like even my nephews knew._

This close to the fireplace they're both bathed in warmth that isn't from their proximity to the other and Janai can't help but admire the way flames illuminate Amaya's face. She reaches up to cup Amaya's cheek before smiling.

_I think you're right. Callum in particular seemed too giddy for his own good as we danced._

Dropping her head to the crook of Janai's collarbone, Amaya laughs. Janai interlaces her fingers together in the hollow of her lower back and presses her lips to the crown of Amaya's head.

 _He's always been too smart for his age,_ Amaya signs after she's lifted her head. _I was worried he might come by my assigned quarters after the gala was over but if he has an inkling of where I might be he might not make the useless trip._

Janai blinks, momentarily stunned before her face softens.

_Stay here tonight?_

Amaya's eyes dart to her lips the split-second before she's nodding and a single curled finger underneath Janai's chin draws their mouths together as if it's inevitable. Amaya thinks dimly for a moment it feels like that _—_ as if every time their mouths leave each other it's only time until they come back together as if they were meant solely to stay that way. Janai's fingers curl a little harder into the curve of her lower back and Amaya sighs into her mouth. 

But instead of tilting her head to deepen the kiss or moving her lips to Janai's neck, Amaya pulls back and drops back onto her heels.

For a moment they stand there, dazed before Amaya smirks.

_I think you're wearing too much, your Royal Highness. Permission to undress and ravish you fully this time?_

She watches the way Janai shivers, eyes darkening at the words before grinning somewhere halfway cocky. Neither one mentions the wobble to her fingers that Amaya feels a thrill of victory at. _She's_ the one doing this to Janai, reducing the powerful monarch to a trembling mess of wet, dripping heat.

Or at least she _hopes_ Janai is being reduced to a wet, dripping heat or Amaya needs to step up her game.

 _That’s no way to talk to a Queen, General,_ Janai smirks in a way she hopes isn't as weak as she feels and lifts her chin. She doesn’t miss how Amaya’s eyes drag headily across the exposed line of her neck — still mottled with bruises — and the height she has against Amaya makes the look only burn through her more fervently, traveling directly to the space between her clenched thighs. _You are beneath me after all._

Amaya’s eyes darken and she steps forward, forcing Janai to take a step back until her spine presses to the lip of the table behind her. _In rank or in bed?_

Janai swallows thickly, confidence diminishing quickly and Amaya shoves down the urge to kiss the line of her neck where she watches her throat constrict. Plenty of time for that later, Amaya reminds herself. She leans forward, pressing the unbound slope of her breasts to Janai's chest and licks her lips slowly as Janai gulps again, inclining her chin ever-so-slightly to look down at the shorter woman.

_Does it matter?_

Pressing close, Amaya smiles indulgently _. As beautiful as your room is, Queen Janai, I did not come here to admire the architecture._

 _Is that so?_ Janai wills her hands not to shake, forcing them not to gravitate to Amaya’s hips and yank her in for a rough kiss even though she aches to. _Then what did you come for? Tell me, General._

It's not a request but an order so delicious and weighty that Amaya shivers once she’s done reading Janai’s fingers and she licks at her lips as a thought forms. Janai’s stomach swoops at the motion and she watches Amaya’s lips curve into a knowing, dark smirk. Her grip on the table tightens until her fingers ache as painfully as the rest of her body but nothing compares to the heady throbbing between her legs, pounding through her veins heavily and making her nerves sing wonderfully with every touch. 

_No,_ Amaya shakes her head. Holding her gaze the entire time, Amaya sinks slowly to her knees before Janai and Janai’s mouth goes dry, tongue heavy in her mouth. _Let me show you._

Her hand comes up to rub the place above her right, unbound breast, moving in a clockwise motion that needs no interpretation.

_Please._

Amaya's begging her; Amaya's begging her permission to _give Janai the pleasure she so desperately craves._

In the flickering of the fireplace to their right, half of Amaya’s face is shadowed and the other half has blown-dark pupils, a flush that creeps down her neck and a grin that makes Janai want to shudder. Her legs almost give out beneath her when Amaya’s right hand splays against the front of her thigh. With nothing to steady herself against besides the meager furniture, she's pressed against Janai huffs, locking her knees and glaring half-heartedly down at the woman kneeling before her, one knee folded as if she’s truly bowing out of respect. 

_Is this better, My Radiance?_

Janai digs her teeth into her lower lip and resists the urge to bury her hands in Amaya’s hair, hike up the hem of her dress and direct Amaya’s smirking lips _exactly_ where she wants them to go. Her bed is impossibly far away and Janai for a moment wonders if the small table can take her weight because if Amaya’s mouth isn’t on her in the next few minutes Janai doesn’t know what she’s _going to do._

One hand cups Amaya’s chin, tilting her face upwards while the other scrambles to find purchase against the table. Amaya watches her heaving chest, closed mouth inches from Janai’s covered legs from where she leans forward. 

Her head spins. 

Janai brushes her thumb against Amaya’s lips. She traces the pink bow of her mouth, the slight chap of her lower lip before bending at the waist to hover her lips above Amaya’s. 

Amaya’s eyes flash fervently from her lips to her hands as Janai signs deliberately. _Proceed, General. I want you to prove to me the worth of your words._

_Here?_

Janai groans at the words and bends further to crush their lips together, teeth scraping against tongues and Amaya responds with the same intensity that makes her want to sink to her knees, too, and have Amaya right here in front of the fireplace. Suddenly nothing else matters and Janai snorts at the thought of undressing Amaya against the floors and rutting out her arousal as if she isn't a Queen and her bed is literal paces away.

It seems too far away, now.

Every thought she's ever had flies out the window when Amaya's lips press to her ankle. Janai sucks in a sharp breath and stares down through lidded eyes as Amaya presses closed-mouth kisses to the curve of her ankle, across the bridge of her foot and back up again until her tongue darts out to lap at the joint.

Janai won't admit how her knees quake. If she's a mess _now,_ Amaya's mouth simply on the lowermost part of her leg, she _needs_ to be in bed before she reaches anywhere else or she'll simply melt into the flooring gladly, no thought to her dress or how her back will ache in the morning.

She doesn't _care_ as Amaya mouths her way over her ankle, pressing a straight line of chaste kisses to the front of her shin. Just before she reaches Janai's knee her fingers dance up the back of her calf and settle in the hollow behind Janai's knee, ghosting across the sensitive skin.

Janai's legs actually _buckle_ and she pants before making up her mind.

She needs Amaya in her bed and she needs her there _right this fucking instant._

Surging down to capture Amaya's lips, Janai barely waits until Amaya kisses back to drag her by her shoulders from her kneeling position and— still kissing Amaya like she's the air she needs inside her breathless lungs — pushes them backward. Amaya's hands grab at her hips, her waist, dragging temptingly over her thighs to the curve of her ass and Janai gasps into her mouth until she's shoving Amaya with two hands to her chest.

Before Amaya's back even hits the blankets Janai is climbing atop her, knees coming to either side of Amaya's left thigh and slotting the woman's knee against the crux of her thighs. Whining, Janai bites down on Amaya's lower lip at the — _finally_ — blessed friction she's been craving and Amaya's nipping at her upper lip in the moment before Janai's world flips and _her_ back hits the sheets.

Grinning victoriously, backlit by the fireplace beyond the footboard of Janai's huge bed, Amaya _glows_. She almost radiates light from the flames leaping behind her and Janai lets herself relax back when Amaya gently coaxes her into the sheets with the weight of her body. Eyes flashing, Amaya leans so close that her nose bumps against Janai's.

 _Let me,_ she mouths and helplessly, lovely, Janai nods.

She'll let Amaya do _anything_ to her at this point — wound so tight she's certain that as soon as Amaya touches her she'll fracture. 

Janai doesn't look away from Amaya's wide, honest brown eyes as her hand splays out against Janai's side before slowly inching behind to her back. Instead of saying anything, Janai nods and arches her back so Amaya's fingers can wrap around the zipper that's nestled between her shoulder blades. Amaya leans close, their noses bumping as she slowly draws the zipper down and draws back only to unthread Janai's arms from the straps.

Neither one looks away as Janai follows her nudging. When her arms are free of the straps, bare, Amaya brushes her lower lip across the bow of Janai's upper and if possible, she melts _further_ into her. The pool of wetness between her thighs that burns hot from Amaya's touch turns softer, almost warmer rather than searing even as the heat burns underneath.

It's a reminder that before this, both of their lips dripped _love._

Everything now is with that knowledge between them. Whatever happens, it's out of their affection for each other rather than just a mindless fuck born of alcohol and bad decisions. They _chose this._

_They chose each other._

Janai knows she's not alone in the sentiment of choosing Amaya over and over again, until the sun burns out in the sky and she withers away. When Amaya cups her cheek, pulling back with soft eyes, Janai knows Amaya understands in a way she'll never be able to verbalize.

Amaya begins delicate work picking her apart with more plain affection rather than just desire than Janai's ever felt before. Her lips map every inch of Janai's face first — bridging across the span of her painted cheeks and eyelids, down the slope of her forehead, around the sides of her eyes and landing somewhere at the middle of her chin. Every kiss, every brush of her lips has Janai sighing pleasantly until she's nothing but skin and singing nerves, coming alive under Amaya's touch.

Hands trace up and down her lax arms as Amaya peppers her love over Janai's neck, marching a straight line down to the base of her throat and back up. With every shift atop her hips, Janai's dress hikes further up her legs and she finds the warm air that seeps into every patch of her skin is _more than welcome_ until she feels like she's boiling alive with arousal and Amaya's weight. When Amaya's lips start planting a trail down her left arm to the wrist and then back up, tongue darting out at the sensitive flesh of her inner elbow, Janai lets her eyes slide closed.

She repeats it on the other arm until her lips once again stop at the junction of her shoulder and then her hands are wrapping around Janai's wrists and drawing them above her head. Janai's eyes shoot open, not panicked but _curious_ above all else and Amaya leans down to kiss her soundly.

 _Is this okay?_ Amaya's mouth asks wordlessly when she pulls back, their foreheads coming to rest against each other. Just as silent but no less potent, Janai answers her.

_Yes._

Amaya presses her into the sheets with the weight of her giddy kiss and Janai responds just as readily. She doesn't realize Amaya's hand has disappeared from her wrist until it ghosts up her side and slips inside her dress. Janai gasps into her mouth when the roll of Amaya's breast bindings flashes by her eyes and her wrists are being wrapped in the soft cloth.

She pants heavily. Amaya's lips slide from her own as she leans up Janai's body until her chest is level with Janai's face. Suddenly dizzy at the feeling of Amaya wrapping her wrists in her own breast bindings and then tying the loose ends to the looping designs in the headboard, Janai tilts her head so her nose bumps against Amaya's clothed chest.

Amaya's chuckle in response rumbles through Janai's body. A hand cups her chin and Janai opens her eyes in lidded bliss in time to catch Amaya's gentle smile. She moves back down Janai's body to settle on her hips and watches how Janai gives an experimental tug at the restraints on her wrists. The knots are snug but not tight — if Janai really wanted to she could slip her hand through them or wiggle the knot from the headboard she sees when she tilts her head back against the pillow.

She lowers her chin to catch Amaya's eyes and groans lowly. Even though Amaya can't hear it, Janai knows she can feel the vibrations that roll through her body to where she straddles Janai's hips. 

From there it's just an exploration downwards. 

Amaya's mouth roams every part of her skin. With every kiss Janai's dress is peeled carefully away by gentle and searing fingers that leave stirring arousal in their wake. Arching into every touch, Janai finds herself panting before Amaya's even finished undressing her. When Amaya's mouth skirts around the slope of her breast after she slowly unwraps Janai's bindings, Janai actually _whines_ , pleading and gasps sharply when Amaya takes the erect bud into her mouth.

Warm and wet, Amaya's tongue circles around her nipple and Janai _shakes_ beneath her, hands flexing into the air against the headboard and wrinkling the sheets underneath her. Amaya closes her eyes and simply lathes her tongue over Janai's breast, hand brushing up and down her side coming to knead the opposite nipple. She can feel how Janai groans and gasps beneath the pin of her hips, stomach jumping when Amaya flicks her tongue over her nipple the same moment she pinches the other between two fingers.

Janai slams her head back against the pillow, panting openly. Smiling, Amaya plants a final kiss on the spit-slick bud and moves downwards.

She shimmies Janai's dress down over her hips, curling the fabric and following every inch of revealed skin with her lips. Amaya's eyes flick up to her every once in a while, making sure she's okay and Janai nods every time.

 _Encouraging_ her.

By the time Amaya is shifting to one knee so she can fully tug Janai's dress off from her feet, Janai feels both so tightly coiled she could explode at any moment and warm enough to cry. Amaya's hands are gentle where they lay against Janai's ankles as she sets the dress aside carefully and settles back against her heels.

Without a word, Janai parts her legs for Amaya and watches, enchanted and breathless, as Amaya's hands bring her leg to her lips. Janai sucks in a shaky breath as Amaya — still holding her gaze — presses the curve of her lips to the inside of her calf.

Janai is helpless only to watch. Her fingernails dig into her palm as Amaya presses a firm kiss to the side of her leg leading to the knee, fingertips dancing across the inside patch of skin and jumping over the minute, awareness of what's to come trembling Janai's flesh. 

"Please," Janai begs shakily and blinks when Amaya lowers her leg.

She makes a sound of discontentment. _"Amaya-?"_

Her other leg is lifted from the mattress and the same ministrations lathed up it to the knee. Groaning breathily, Janai lets her head roll back as Amaya's hand turns her leg ever-so-slightly enough for her tongue to dart out and lick at the innermost skin of Janai's left knee.

Janai _keens._

Somewhere between it all Amaya's come to kneel between her knees and Janai spreads her legs wider, inviting her, _begging_ her. But Amaya only stills, resting her hands on the tops of Janai's thighs and watching how her hips roll with impatience.

She huffs. "I don't like to be kept waiting," she says sternly but knows even Amaya can see the way her lips tremble as if they can't support the pretend weight of her words. She can feel herself _dripping_ in anticipation, knows Amaya can see it just as plainly. Even just the thought of Amaya watching her _down there_ makes her grow wetter.

She's completely powerless, reduced to a quivering mess by Amaya's mouth and fingertips and Janai _adores it._

At the first shifting of Amaya's hands upwards, Janai moans. The pressure of her palms against the tops of Janai's thighs is beautiful, fervent, dragging with wonderful weight and Janai arches into the touch. When her hands skate around the crux at the top of her legs Janai whines but Amaya shushes her quietly, smile promising _soon._

Janai sucks her lips between her teeth. She doesn't want to derail Amaya's hands from her legs if she doesn't have to.

She'd wait a thousand years for Amaya's touch. She'd wait a thousand years for _Amaya_.

Turns out, _she doesn't have to._ When Amaya's hands skirt back up her thighs they shift inwards and Janai _bucks_ when her thumbs brush her sensitive, dripping folds. Even though the touch disappears a moment later she all but ruts desperately against the sheets, seeking the friction and Amaya's hand cups her cheeks for a stunning moment.

Janai peeks between arousal-lidded eyes. Amaya's chin dips in acknowledgment and the same moment her hand drags south down Janai's neck, skirting between Janai's breasts and across the painted expanse of her stomach — her other hand ghosts across the crux of Janai's thighs.

She falls apart in the best of ways. Moaning indulgently, Janai can only grind her hips into the sheets as Amaya finally, _finally_ touches her the way Janai's been hoping for all night — _every night_ for _five years._

It's as if every shred of patience _snaps_ in Amaya the moment her thumb parts Janai's folds, coming away positively _soaked_. Her eyes darken so quickly Janai's head spins. Suddenly her smirking mouth is hot on Janai's thighs, nipping kisses into the sensitive inner flesh and Janai is wheezing weakly, stomach coiling, back rolling as if she could get any closer— 

Amaya's tongue descends between her folds and Janai sees _heaven._

There's no hesitation in the way she immediately presses her mouth close to the crux of Janai's legs, circling her lips around the swollen bud, licking long strips down Janai's dripping folds before licking shortly at the contracting hole there, groaning the entire time. Janai lets the vibrations as Amaya eats her out drive her _erratic_ . In the back of her mind she registers she's crying out with every breath, cursing in some ancient tongue, growing louder with each teasing lick Amaya gives her. With the tip of her tongue Amaya laps at the wetness _she's caused_ until all Janai can hear is the sucking noises of Amaya's lips as she rubs the flat of her tongue between Janai's spread folds; hard and unrelenting, in a pattern Janai can't decipher. 

Quick, lapping licks are followed by slow drags of her tongue down to where Janai's ass presses against the sheets before working its way back up and Janai shouts, grinding mercilessly against Amaya's face every time Amaya's nose bumps against that swollen bundle of nerves.

"Amaya," she pants, eyes squeezing shut as she trembles, hips flexing above the sheets of her bed as her hands fist desperately in the sheets, "Amaya, _Amaya_ _p-please—"_

Amaya's tongue circles around her the exact moment a single finger slides between her folds. Slamming her eyes shut, Janai sees stars and barely bites back a pleasant cry as the fingertip dips into her entrance for a heartbeat before withdrawing. She _sobs_ as the finger moves up and down, collecting the moisture she's worked up and teasing around the slick and sensitive flesh of her folds as Amaya licks eagerly at her throbbing bud.

Janai almost _growls._ The coiling in her stomach is growing and ebbing with each quick touch and retreat, building up such a humming in her veins Janai knows she's close. Her entire body _aches_ in anticipation and the pulsing of her abdomen sings though her like a promise.

Amaya _fulfills_ her promise and her mouth detaches from between Janai's legs as she leans up her body to capture her lips in the same moment the finger slips inside her. Tasting herself on Amaya's lips, shiny and swollen, flushed from their ministrations between her legs is the final piece in the puzzle. Crying out, the sound muffled by Amaya's lips, Janai shudders as her thumb deftly strokes at her swollen clit and the fingers not inside her spread her folds.

Seconds later she's releasing wetly into Amaya's hand with a shout that splits her open wide.

Her entire body _trembles._ Even as she breaks apart in the best of ways, legs quaking to clench around Amaya's hand, the finger inside her doesn't stop thrusting. The slide is easy, slick with Janai's arousal and she bucks wildly against the sheets as Amaya swallows every moan and gasp she wrings out of her with only _two of her talented fingers._

Janai wonders how she ever thought five fingers would do the job satisfactorily when just Amaya's thumb and middle finger have her exploding blindly — if she had the mental capacity to, Janai would marvel at the fact. Her entire vision is white, stars dotting the inside of her eyelids where she squeezes them shut as pleasure rolls through her like a wave crashing down on the ocean and Amaya holds her the entire time, Janai's head nestled into the crook of her neck. 

Somewhere between when the shaking slows to a minute quivering of her thighs and Janai breathes in the heady scent of the sweat on Amaya's neck, she's being cradled back into the sheets as Amaya climbs back down her body. 

Janai’s pupils are blown wide as she cranes her head to watch.

Amaya is now splayed on her stomach between her legs, elbows propping her up and Janai holds her breath; aching to have her lover’s mouth where she wants it _most_. The inferno in her stomach has been satiated slightly but she’s nowhere near ready to break the moment they’re both wrapped in now, covered in a thin sheen of sweat with heaving chests. 

Her head dips lower and lower until it stops, barely a breath away from the curve of her soaked flesh where the bundle of nerves that sparks hides. Janai groans, frustrated, twisting at the ties around her wrists as she desperately tries to wiggle her hips closer until Amaya’s eyes flick up at her. 

Janai stills. 

With barely a moment to breathe, Amaya jolts into action. The sultry pucker of her mouth encircles Janai's clit and _sucks_ at the exact moment a second finger joins the first inside her. Then without pause Amaya's tongue is lapping at her folds, at her entrance, traveling up and down her crux to grind against the swollen bud before teasing at where her fingers work up a bruising pace without respite. The drag of her fingers sliding against Janai's slick walls is so quick the sound of wet, slapping skin meets her ears, almost _echoing_ with her loud moans around the room.

She's never been more relieved to be alone.

Her fists clench, aching to bury themselves in Amaya's hair and tug her impossibly closer until Janai can ride out her rapidly-reapproaching high against Amaya's lips. As if she can _read_ what Janai's thinking a third finger works into her to the knuckle as she takes her swollen clit between her teeth and _tugs._

Amaya looks up.

The moment their eyes meet, Janai's lidded and blissed-out, Amaya's so dark they're almost black with hunger and clear _want_ , Janai _shrieks._

Enchanted, Amaya watches her face as Janai falls apart. Janai’s legs begin to tremble around her ears to the same stuttering time as Amaya’s fingers and Amaya watches, captivated, as the elf breaks _magnificently_ around Amaya’s hand and against her mouth. Even though she can’t hear them, Amaya soaks in the vibrations from Janai’s moans that reverberate through her entire body as she stiffens, mouth opening in a silent pant as she crests the wave Amaya’s ministrations have flung her into for the _third time_ that night. 

It's a wonderful thought that sends a dizzying rush of warmth to pool between her own thighs and Amaya hums against Janai's clit.

Janai cries out weakly at the vibrations, breathless and gasping wildly. Although she doesn’t stop thrusting three fingers into or lapping at the swollen bud between Janai’s quickly clenching slick folds, Amaya is an appreciative and close spectator to her rolling orgasm. As Janai trembles and quakes beneath her Amaya lets the hand against her stomach — pinning her hips down against the bed — travel to Janai’s breast. 

She rolls one of the elf’s stiff and slight-tacky nipples — Amaya's drying spit the arousing culprit to her delight — between pinched fingers before kneading at the soft, sloped skin. Janai is breaking apart into lovely pieces under her touch and Amaya hums, lips creating a seal around that sensitive, throbbing bud and _tugging_. 

Janai writhes helplessly. Heels digging into Amaya’s shoulderblades she pants, hands tied to the headboard still with Amaya’s bindings flexing until Amaya is certain they’ll snap. She preens when they don’t tear apart and closes her eyes, pushing her face forward until her nose presses to the rounded, dark sepia skin above where her face is buried between Janai’s taut thighs. Even as her wrist aches with the bruising pace of her thrusting fingers Amaya doesn’t slow her ministrations but lets Janai grind her hips against her mouth and hand as the last waves of her arousal crash over her. 

Her third orgasm of the night is slower, richer, but no less tantalizing. Amaya lathes her tongue across the expanse of her throbbing, dripping folds, lapping every drop she can and fucking her fingers deeper until Janai whines lowly, over-sensitive and over-stimulated as she is.

She glances up. Janai's lips are moving, begging her something but it's not the shape of their safe word so Amaya doesn’t stop in the way she curls her fingers at the end of each inward thrust, her palm is pressing up against Janai’s weeping folds. She knows if she could hear that her fingers are making a wet slapping noise with each thrust and she pulls back enough to watch the strings of moisture that hang from her hand when she slowly pulls them out. 

A wonderful, awful idea forms in the back of Amaya's mind.

Janai's legs fall open around her head, exhausted and fucked-out, sagging into the mattress as a keening whine rumbles through her at the sudden emptiness. She cranes her head to watch Amaya draw her hand back, dripping thin ropes of Janai's arousal and she flushes beautifully even as her folds continue to visually throb.

She whines weakly again. Smirking knowingly, Amaya spanks her hand sharply at the crux of her spread thighs which makes Janai’s back bow upwards as she moans. Amaya giggles — a vibration that travels pleasantly down her spine to pool between her own thighs — before bringing the dripping fingers down to the sheets.

Holding Janai's gaze the entire time, Amaya slides the soaked digits against her skin and slips them between her _own_ thighs in a slow, deliberate motion. 

Janai _chokes_. 

Although she can’t see Amaya’s fingers anymore, blocked by the curve of her own lower body and the way Amaya slipped the hand between her own belly and sheets — trapping her wrist there — Janai doesn’t need to see to know _exactly_ what she’s doing. _How she's touching herself with the same fingers she had previously buried to the knuckle inside Janai._ It's a thought so searing her own arousal stirs dully.

Amaya sighs softly, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as she rests her head atop Janai’s thigh. Every gentle gasp as she works her fingers against her own folds, serving her own needs is breathed so close to Janai’s still-spread legs that Janai’s head spins. Just the pants are enough to wind up the coil in her stomach _again,_ somehow _,_ and Janai mourns it’s not her hand between Amaya’s thighs. Her own fingers ache to bury themselves between her slick folds, wet with her arousal first, making Amaya’s ass move in tantalizing circles against the digits seeking friction. 

She cranes her neck, desperate to get a glimpse but Amaya just nips at the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh instead. Janai groans, hips working in slow, deliberate circles. Going from all the stimulation to nothing makes her body hum with pent-up energy and Janai is tempted not for the last time to snap the breast bindings knotted securely around her wrists. 

Resigning herself to a helpless but no less willing spectator, Janai twists her knee to press her foot into the curve of Amaya's hip. The shift of her leg allows for Amaya's lips to momentarily ghost across her still-dripping folds and Janai thrills in the shiver it sends to the base of her spine.

The position change isn't just for her, though. From the new angle of her leg Janai can see Amaya's ass better and watches how she circles her hips, grinding down against the same slick fingers Janai's had inside her.

She can tell when Amaya slips them into herself. Although Amaya's deaf to the sounds herself, Janai isn't and they're rough and perfect when they ring in her ears. It's Amaya's turn to writhe and gasp now, hips working in shuddering circles as she touches herself and Janai smiles wickedly to herself. It's deliberate the way she slowly toes her foot under Amaya's hip and amidst Amaya's surprised intake of breath, stretches out her leg underneath her left thigh. 

Both of them moan indulgently and Janai knows it's because Amaya's hand is trapped by her body weight and Janai's leg, pressing the fingers inside her _deeper_ . It's an image that drives them _both wild._

Amaya gasps and moans, working the three fingers soaked with Janai's slick against her own slick folds in a frenzy she can hardly keep up with. Her wrist aches with the erratic movement but Amaya doesn't care, looking up at the woman laid out before her. Janai's tongue darts across her lips, wetting them, and Amaya heaves.

The warm breath blows against Janai's still-spread folds and Amaya relishes in the weak moan that rumbles through her. Then Janai is narrowing her eyes and her lips move.

Helpless to do anything but watch, Amaya follows the movement of her mouth.

_Come for me, Amaya._

With a sharp inhale, Amaya _does._ Janai's words send her careening over the edge of the wave and it all crashes down on her in a way that leaves her shaky and satisfied. Arousal rolls through her stomach in stunning crests that churn and twist and Amaya realizes she's trembling, hips canting against Janai's thigh and her own hand trapped between the two.

She's hardly stopped quivering when she's climbing up Janai's body to settle on her stomach and kiss her deeply. Janai responds immediately, humming into Amaya's lips and she rocks her hips across the curved planes of her abdomen, knowing it's right above the half-sun painted there in stunning gold.

The same markings as her grandmother, the same markings Amaya's wanted to kiss since she found out they were _there._ She's fulfilled that fantasy twice tonight but Amaya can't help but break the kiss to scoot back until she's atop Janai's lips and lower her head. Janai watches her, breasts stuttering with her surprised pants when Amaya's tongue laps at the wetness she's left, evidence of her arousal.

Janai groans as Amaya's tongue slowly lathes across her markings. She had felt the wetness her spread thighs atop her stomach had left but hadn't expected Amaya to _lick her own arousal off Janai's skin._

Her hips move weakly. She feels weak, rung-out in the best of ways and doesn't realize her eyes have slid closed until Amaya's tongue disappears from her stomach as the mattress dips around her head. Cracking open an eye, she watches Amaya reach up to untie the knots holding her wrists to the headboard. 

_What she does realize_ is that Amaya's knees are on either side of her shoulders, crux of her thighs hovering so close to Janai's chin and glistening with her arousal so temptingly that Janai's mouth _waters._ She grins to herself and _waits_.

The moment the last knot comes undone, Janai's hands are wrapping around Amaya's thighs and tugging her off balance but then Janai's mouth is on Amaya and she's eating her out like she's a woman on death row. The sudden movement sends Amaya pitching forward and she gasps sharply as her hands grope at the headboard before she looks down.

Their eyes meet and Janai dips her tongue into her dripping entrance. Amaya's eyes snap closed and her head lolls back, hips grinding down on Janai's face until she can hardly breathe but Janai's tongue doesn't stop thrusting up inside her. Even as she moans and pants Janai knows Amaya is just as tired as her, high on their shared arousal with the last few dregs of alcohol running through them and her thrusts pick up speed.

Amaya comes quickly against her tongue. Janai gazes up from the patch of dark hair above her folds and watches as her lover's entire body _trembles_ from head to toe as she rides out her third orgasm against Janai's chin. The circles she's making with her hips start to slow until they stop and Amaya is heaving, sliding off Janai's face to collapse into the sheets beside her.

Janai kisses her sweetly, chin shiny with Amaya's juices before splaying out atop her, dropping her head into the crook of her neck.

Neither one knows how long they lay there, every inch of their body pressed together, sweat cooling on their flushed bodies. Somewhere along it all Janai's hand stretches across Amaya's stomach to cup her hip, tangling their legs together and Amaya between her horns.

A rumbling laugh makes Janai raise her head, smiling softly. "What?"

Amaya's shoulders shake with her mirth. _Who knew your horns could rip your pillows open,_ she signs and Janai snorts at the various feathers strewn around them — something she hadn't noticed until now.

_Is that an invitation, General Amaya, to accompany you back to your room?_

She shakes her head. _I don't think I could stand right now even if I wanted to. Mind if I stay here instead?_

Propping herself up on her elbow, Janai returns her soft smile. 

_Despite the torn pillows?_

Amaya's finger spins a braid before she's tugging Janai gently against her lips, rising on her own elbow to meet her in the middle. It's nothing more than a brushing of their closed lips, too tired for anything else, and Amaya sags back into the bedding after a moment.

 _Despite the torn pillows,_ she agrees. Her eyes dance in the firelight when Janai cups her cheek. _I love you, Janai._

It's as easy as breathing to say it back — the words have been banging around her ribs since that day all those years ago when Amaya's fist bumped into her arm and Janai playfully, grudgingly, held out her hand in front of the Queen of the Dragons. Since then the three words have slipped through her heart to slither up her throat, settling on the tip of her tongue every time she and Amaya saw each other.

A tongue that _tastes like Amaya._

Janai presses her toes into the sheets, stretching herself up far enough to plant twin kisses on either side of Amaya's face. Her lover's eyelids flutter at that and Janai ends with a chaste kiss to her lips before pulling back.

"I love you too, Amaya."

Even as her mouth moves with the words she signs them and Amaya is smiling so brightly it lights up Janai's entire body with a pooling warmth that isn't arousal. Then they're settling in — Amaya's ear pressed to her sternum, arms wrapping around her middle, legs tangled, and Janai is the one to kiss her head this time.

Surrounded by Amaya's warmth, lulled by the pleasant press of every line of their body together and the lingering stickiness of their shared arousal, Janai lets herself drift off. Somewhere deeper in the palace the Gala is ending, still missing its host but no one seems to mind.

The world is at peace, everyone is safe, and Janai's four fingers feel like puzzle pieces sliding into their long-awaited place between Amaya's. 

_With_ Amaya's.

For the first time in a long time, it's _enough._ Amaya will always be enough, Janai will always be enough, _each other_ will always be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> one last question! if you would like to see an alternate ending to this fic; that is, a full smut scene, please let me know! i want to know if anyone would like to see that and i can post it as a second chapter :)


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